?n  \*<»  ? 
3 s 


CHAUCER’S 

PROLOGUE,  KNIGHT’S  TALE,  AND 
NUN’S  PRIEST’S  TALE 


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https://archive.org/details/geoffreychaucersOOchau 


GEOFFREY  CHAUCER 


GEOFFREY  CHAUCER’S 


THE  PROLOGUE  TO  THE  BOOK  OF  THE 
TALES  OF  CANTERBURY 

THE  KNIGHT’S  TALE 

THE  NUN’S  PRIEST’S  TALE 


EDITED,  WITH  NOTES  AND  GLOSSARY, 
BY 

ANDREW  INGRAHAM  ^ 

LATE  HEAD-MASTER  OF  THE  SWAIN  FREE  SCHOOL, 
NEW  BEDFORD,  MASS. 

.boston  college 
L CH£stnut  mil, 

Nefo  |0otk 

THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

• LONDON:  MACMILLAN  & CO.,  Ltd. 

1916 

All  rights  reserved 


Copyright,  1902, 

By  THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY. 


Set  up  and  electrotyped  September,  1902.  Reprinted  April, 
*903;  February,  1904;  January,  November,  1905;  February,  1906; 
January,  1907;  April, October,  1908;  July,  1909;  February,  1910; 
January,  1911;  August,  1912;  January,  1913  ; March,  1914; 
January,  July,  1915;  March,  July,  1916. 


CONTENTS 


Text  : page 

The  Prologue 1 

The  Knight’s  Tale 36 

The  Nun’s  Priest’s  Tale 127 

Reading  Aloud 167 

The  Text 171 

The  Language 179 

The  Man 199 

The  Poet 212 

List  of  Chaucer’s  Works 232 

Order  of  the  Canterbury  Tales  ....  234 

List  of  Books  for  Reference 236 

Notes 239 

List  of  Proper  Names 287 

Glossary 301 

v 


THE  PROLOGUE 


Whan  that0  Apriile  with  his  shoures  sote 
The  droughte  of  March  hath  perced  to  the  rote, 
And  bathed  every  veyne  in  swich°  licour 
Of  which  vertu  engendred  is  the  flour ; 

Whan  Zephirus  eek  with  his  swete  breeth 
Inspired  hath  in  every  holt  and  heeth 
The  tendre  croppes,  and  the  yonge  sonne 
Hath  in  the  Kam°  his  halfe  cours  y-ronne. 

And  smale  fowles  maken  melodye, 

That  slepen  al  the  night  with  open  ye, 

So  priketh  hem  nature  in  hir  corages : 

Than  Ion  gen  folk  to  goon  on  pilgrimages, 

And  palmeres  for  to  seken  straunge  strondes. 

To  feme  halwes  couthe  in  sondry  londes,0*’ 

And  specially  from  every  shires  ende 
Of  Engelond  to  Caunterbury  they  wende, 

The  holy  blisful  martir0  for  to  seke, 

That  hem  hath  holpen  whan  that  they  were  seke. 

Bifel°  that  in  that  sesoun  on  a day 
In  South werk  at  the  Tabard0  as  I lay 

B 1 


2 


THE  PROLOGUE 


Redy  to  wenden  on  my  pilgrimage 
To  Cannterbury  with  fill  devout  corage,0 
At  night  was  come  into  that  hostelrye 
Wei  nine  and  twenty0  in  a compaignye 
Of  sondry  folk  by  aventure  y-falle 
In  felaweshipe,  and  pilgrimes  were  they  alle, 
That  toward  Cannterbury  wolden  ride. 

The  chambres  and  the  stables  weren  wide, 

And  wel  we  weren  esed  atte  beste. 

And  shortly,  whan  the  sonne  was  to  reste, 

So  hadde  1°  spoken  with  hem  everichon, 

That  I was  of  hir  felaweshipe  anon ; 

And  made  forward  erly  for  to  rise, 

To  take  our  wey,  ther  as  I yow  devise^ 

But  natheles,  whyl  I have  time  anospace, 

Er  that  I ferther  in  this  tale  pace, 

Me  thinketh0  it  acordaunt  to  resoun 
To  telle  yow  al  the  condicioun 
Of  ech  of  hem  so  as  it  semed  me, 

And  whiche  they  weren  and  of  what  degree, 
And  eek  in  what  array  that  they  were  inne0 ; 
And  at°  a knight  than  wol  I first  biginne. 

A Knight  ther  was  and  that  a worthy0  man, 
That,  fro  the  time  that  he  first  bigan 
To  riden°  out,  he  loved  chivalrye, 


THE  PROLOGUE 


Trouthe  and  honour,  fredom  and  curteisye. 

Ful  worthy  was  he  in  his  lordes  werre, 

And  therto  hadde  he  riden,  no  man  ferre, 

As  wel  in  cristendom  as  in  hethenesse, 

^ And  evere  honoured  for  his  worthinesse. 

-31  Alisaundre0  he  was  whan  it  was  wonne ; 

Ful  ofte  time  he  hadde  the  bord  bigonne 
Aboven  alle  naciouns  in  Pruce. 

In  Lettow  hadde  he  reysed  and  in  Puce, 

No  Cristen  man  so  ofte  of  his  degree. 

In  Gernade  at  the  sege  eek  hadde  he  be 
Of  Algezir,  and  riden  in  Belmarye. 

At  Lyeys  was  he,  and  &t  Satalye, 

Whan  they  were  wonne ; and  in  the  Grete  See 
At  many  a noble  armee  hadde  he  be. 

At  mortal  batailles  hadde  he  been  fiftene, 

And  foughten  for  our  feith  at  Tramissene 
In  listes  thryes,  and  ay  slayn  his  foo. 

This  ilke  worthy  knight  hadde  been  also 
Somtime  with  the  lord  of  Palatye, 

Agayn  another0  hethen  in  Turkye : 

And  everemore  he  hadde  a sovereyn  prys. 

And  though  that0  he  were0  worthy,  he  was  wys, 
And  of  his  port  as  meke  as  is  a mayde. 

He  nevere  yet  no  vileinye  ne  sayde 


4 


THE  PROLOGUE 


111  al  his  lyf,  unto  no  maner  wight. 

He  was  a verray  parfit,  gentil  knight. 

But  for  to  tellen  yow  of  his  array, 

His  hors°  were  gode,  but  he  ne  was  nat  gay  ; 

Of  fustian  he  wered  a gipoun 
Al  bismotered  with  his  habergeoun ; 

For  he  was  late  y-come  from  his  viage, 

And  wente  for  to  doon  his  pilgrimage. 

With  him  ther  was  his  sone,  a yong  Squyer, 
A lovyere,0  and  a lusty  bacheler,0 
With  lokkes  crulle  as  they  were  leyd  in  presse. 
Of  twenty  yeer  of  age  he  was,  I gesse. 

Of  his  stature  he  was  of  evene  lengthe, 

And  wonderly  delivere  and  of  greet  strengthe. 
And  he  hadde  been  somtime  in  chivachye 
In  Flaundres,  in  Artoys,  and  Picardye, 

And  born  him  wel,  as  of  so  litel  space,0 
In  hope  to  stonden  in  his  lady°  grace. 
Embrouded  was  he,  as  it  were  a mede 
Al  ful  of  freshe  floures  white  and  rede. 

Singinge  he  was,  or  floytinge,0  al  the  day; 

He  was  as  fresh  as  is  the  month  of  May. 

Short  was  his  goune,  with  sieves  longe  and  wide 
Wel  coude  he  sitte  on  hors  and  faire  ride. 

He  coude  songes  make  and  wel  endite, 


THE  PROLOGUE 


5 


Juste  and  eek  daunce,  and  wel  purtreye  and  write. 

So  hote  he  lovede  that  by  niglitertale 
He  sleep  namore  than  doth  a nightingale, 
thirteys  he  was,  lowly  and  servisable, 

And  carf  biforn  his  fader  at  the  table.  ioo 

A Yeman  hadde  he,  and  ser vaunts  namo 
At  that  time,  for  him  liste  ride  so°  ; 

And  he  was  clad  in  cote  and  hood  of  grene, 

A sheef  of  pecok  arwes  brighte  and  kene 

Under  his  belt  he  bar  ful  thriftily  105 

(Wel  coude  he  dresse  his  take!  yemanly, 

His  arwes  drouped  nought  with  fetheres  lowe), 

And  in  his  hand  he  bar  a mighty  bowe. 

A not-heed  hadde  he,  with  a broun  visage. 

Of  wode-craft  wel  coude  he  al  the  usage.  no 

Upon  his  arm  he  bar  a gay  bracer, 

And  by  his  side  a swerd  and  a bokeler, 

And  on  that  other  side  a gay  daggere, 

Harneised  wel,  and  sharp  as  poynt  of  spere ; 

^ A Gristofre  on  his  brest  of  silver  shene.  115 

An  horn  he  bar,  the  bawdrik  was  of  grene ; 

A forster  was  he,  soothly,  as  I gesse. 

* Ther  was  also  a ISTonne,  a Prioresse, 

That  of  hir  smiling  was  ful  simple  and  coy  ; 

Hir  gretteste  ooth  was  but  ‘ By  Seynte  Loy  0 ’ ; 


1*0 


6 


THE  PROLOGUE 


And  she  was  cleped  Madame  Eglentine.0 
Ful  wel  she  song  the  service  divine, 

Entuned0  in  hir  nose  ful  semely ; 

And  Frensh  she  spak  ful  faire  and  fetisly, 

After  the  scole  of  Stratford-atte-Bowe,° 

<j?or  Frensh  of  Paris  was  to  hir  unknowe. 

At  mete  wel  y-taught°  was  she  withalle ; 

She  leet  no  morsel  from  hir  lippes  falle, 

Ne  wette  hir  fingres  in  hir  sauce  depe ; 

Wel  coude  she  carie  a morsel,  and  wel  kepe 
That  no  drope  ne  fille°  upon  hir  brest ; 

In  curteisye  was  set  ful  moche  hir  lest. 

Hir  over  lippe  wiped  she  so  clene, 

That  in  hir  coppe  ther  was  no  ferthing  sene 
Of  grece,  whan  she  dronken  hadde  hir  draughte 
Ful  semely  after  hir  mete  she  raughte. 

And  sikerly  she  was  of  greet  disport, 

And  ful  plesaunt,  and  amiable  of  port, 

And  peyned  hir  to  countrefete  chere 
Of  Court,  and  to  been  estatlich  of  manere, 

And  to  ben  holden  digne  of  reverence. 

But,  for  to  speken  of  hir  conscience, 

She  was  so  charitable  and  so  pitous, 

, She  wolde  wepe,  if  that  she  sawe°  a mous 
Caught  in  a trappe,  if  it  were  deed  or  bledde . 


THE  PROLOGUE 


7 


Of  smale  houndes  hadde  she,  that  she  fedde 
With  rosted  flesh,  or  milk  and  wastel  breed. 

But  sore  wepte  she  if  oon  of  hem  were  deed, 

Or  if  men°  smoot  it  with  a yerde  smerte ; 

And  al  was  conscience  and  tendre  herte.  150 

Ful  semely  hir  wimpel  pinched  was ; 

Hir  nose  tretis ; hir  eyen  greye  as  glas ; 

Hir  mouth  ful  smal,  and  thereto  softe  and  reed ; 

But  sikerly  she  hadde  a fair  forheed, 

It  was  almost  a spanne  brood,  I trowe  ; 155 

For,  hardily,  she  was  nat  undergrowe! 

Ful  fetis  was  hir  cloke,  as  I was  war. 

Of  smal  coral  aboute  hir  arm  she  bar 
A peire°  of  bedes,  gauded  al  with  grene ; 

And  theron  heng  a broche  of  gold  ful  shene,  160 

On  which  ther  was  first  write  a crowned  A, 

And  after  Amor  vincit  omnia . 
i Another  Nonne  with  hir  hadde  she, 

3r  ^That  was  hir  chapeleyne,  and  Pueestes  thre. 

A Monk  ther  was,  a fair  for  the  maistrye,  165 

An  outridere,  that  lovede  venerye  ; 

A manly  man,  to  been  an  abbot  able. 

Ful  many  a deyntee  hors  hadde  he  in  stable ; 

And  whan  he  rood  men  mighte  his  bridel  here 
Ginglen  in  a whistling  wind  as  clere  170 


8 


THE  PROLOGUE 


And  eek  as  loude  as  doth  the  chapel  belle, 

Ther  as  this  lord  was  keper  of  the  celle. 

The  reule0  of  seynt  Maure  or  of  seynt  Beneit0 
By  cause  that  it  was  old  and  som-del  streit, 

This  ilke  monk  leet  olde  thinges  pace,  275 

And  held  after  the  newe  world  the  space. 

He  yaf  nat  of  that  text  a pulled0  hen 
That  seith  that  hunters  been  nat  holy  men ; 

Ne  that  a monk  whan  he  is  rechelees 

Is  likned  til  a fish  that  is  waterlees ; 180 

This  is  to  seyn,  a monk  out  of  his  cloistre. 

But  thilke  text  held  he  nat  worth  an  oistre. 

And  I seyde  his  opinioun  was  good.0 
What  sholde  he  studie,  and  make  himselven  wood, 
Upon  a book  in  cloistre  alwey  to  poure,  185 

Or  swinken  with  his  handes  and  laboure, 

As  Austin  bit°  ? How  shal  the  world  be  served  ? 
Lat  Austin  have  his  swink  to  him  reserved. 

Therfor  he  was  a pricasour  aright ; 

Grehoundes  he  hadde,  as  swifte  as  foul  in  flight ; 190 

Of  priking  and  of  hunting  for  the  hare 
Was  al  his  lust,  for  no  cost  wolde  he  spare.0 
I seigh  his  sieves  purfiled  at  the  hond 
With  grys,  and  that  the  fineste  of  a lond° ; 

And,  for  to  festne  his  hood  under  his  chin, 


*95 


THE  PROLOGUE 


9 


He  hadde  of  gold  y wrought  a f ul  curious  pin ; 

A love-knot  in  the  gretter  ende  ther  was. 

His  heed  was  balled,  that  shoon  as  any  glas^ 

And  eek  his  face  as  he  hadde  been  enoynt. 

He  was  a lord  ful  fat  and  in  good  poynt  J 200 

His  eyen  stepe  and  rollinge  in  his  heed 
That  stemed  as  a forneys  of  a leed ; 

His  botes  souple,  his  hors  in  greet  estat. 

How  certeynly  he  was  a fair  prelat; 

He  was  nat  pale  as  a for-pined  goost.  205 

A fat  swan  loved  he  best  of  any  roost. 

His  palfrey  was  as  broun  as  is  a berie. 

A Fkere  ther  was,  a wantoun  and  a merie, 

A limitour,  a ful  solempne  man. 

In  alle  the  ordres  foure°  is  noon  that  can  ?io 

So  moche  of  daliaunce  and  fair  langage. 

He  hadde  maad  ful  many  a manage0 
Of  yonge  wommen  at  his  owene  cost. 

Unto  his  ordre  he  was  a noble  post. 

Ful  wel  biloved  and  famulier  was  he  215 

With  frankeleyns  overal  in  his  contree, 

And  with  worthy  wommen  of  the  toun  - 
For  he  hadde  power  of  confessioun, 

As  seyde  himself,  more  than  a curat, 

For  of  his  ordre  he  was  licentiat. 


22a 


10 


THE  PROLOGUE 


Ful  swetely  herde  he  confessioun, 
x.nd  plesaunt  was  liis  absolucioun ; 

He  was  an  esy  man  to  yeve  penaunce 
Ther  as  he  wiste  to  have  a good  pitaunce ; 

For  unto  a povre  ordre  for  to  yive  225 

Is  signe  that  a man  is  wel  y-shrive ; 

For  if  he  yaf,  he  dorste  make  avaunt, 

He  wiste  that  a man  was  repentaunt : 

For  many  a man  so  hard  is  of  his  herte, 

He  may  nat  wepe  although  him  sore  smerte ; 230 

Therfore  in  stede  of  weping  and  preyeres 
Men°  moote  yeve  silver  to  the  povre  freres. 

His  tipet  was  ay  farsed  ful  of  knives0 
And  pinnes,  for  to  yeven  faire  wives. 

And  certeinly  he  hadde  a mery  note ; 

Wel  coude  he  singe  and  pleyen  on  a rote. 

Of  yeddinges  he  bar  outrely  the  prys. 

His  nekke  whyt  was  as  the  flour-de-lys. 

Thertc  he  strong  was  as  a champioun. 

He  knew  the  tavernes  wel  in  every  toun, 

And  everich  hostiler  and  tappestere 
Bet  than  a lazar  or  a beggestere0 ; 

For  unto  swich  a worthy  man  as  he 
Acorded  nat,  as  by  his  facultee,0 
To  have  with  seke  lazars  aqueyntaunce. 


*35 


240 


24j 


THE  PROLOGUE 


11 


It  is  nat  honeste,  it  may  nat  avaunce0 
For  to  delen0  with  no  swich  poraille, 

But  al  with  riche  and  selleres  of  vitaille. 

And  overal  ther  as°  profit  sholde  arise, 

Curteys  he  was,  and  lowely  of  servise.  25a 

Ther  nas  no  man  nowher  so  vertuous ; 

He  was  the  beste  beggere  in  his  hous, 

For  though  a widwe  hadde  nought  a sho, 

So  plesaunt  was  his  ‘In  principio,0  ? 

Yet  wolde  he  have  a ferthing0  er  he  wente.  255 

His  purchas  was  wel  bettre  than  his  rente. 

And  rage  he  coude  as  it  were  right  a whelpe. 

In  love-dayes  ther  coude  he  mochel  helpe. 

For  ther  he  was  nat  lyk  a cloisterer, 

With  a thredbare  cope,  as  is  a povre  scoler,  260 

But  he  was  lyk  a maister  or  a pope. 

Of  double  worstede  was  his  semi-cope, 

That  rounded  as  a belle  out  of  the  presse. 

Somwhat  he  lipsed  for  his  wantounesse, 

To  make  his  English  swete  upon  his  tonge ; 265 

And  in  his  harping,0  whan  that  he  hadde  songe, 

His  eyen  twinkled  in  his  heed  aright, 

As  doon  the  sterres  in  the  frosty  night. 

This  worthy  limitour  was  cleped  Huberd. 

V A Marchant  was  ther  with  a forked  berd, 


270 


12 


THE  PROLOGUE 


In  mottelee,  and  h ye  on  horse  he  sat ; 

Upon  his  heed  a Flaundrish  bevere  hat, 

His  botes  clasped  faire  and  fetisly. 

His  resouns  he  spak  f ill  *solempnely, 

Souninge  alway  thencrees  of  his  winninge.  2?e 

He  wolde  the  see  were  kept  for  any  thinge0 
Bitwixe  Middelburgh  and  Orewelle. 

Wei  coude  he  in  eschaunge0  sheeldes  selle. 

This  worthy  man  ful  wel  his  wit  bisette ; 

Ther  wiste  no  wight  that  he  was  in  dette,  280 

So  estatly  was  he  of  his  governaunce 

^Vith  his  bargaynes  and  with  his  chevisaunce. 

For  sothe  he  was  a worthy  man  withalle, 

But,  sooth  to  seyn,  I noot  I10 w men  him  calle. 

A Clerk  ther  was  of  Oxenford  also,  285 

That  unto  logik  hadde  long  y-go. 

As  lene  was  his  hors  as  is  a rake, 

And  he  nas  nat  right  fat,  I undertake', 

But  loked  hoi  we,  and  therto  soberly. 

Ful  thredbare  was  his  overeste  courtepy ; 290 

For  he  hadde  geten  him  yet  no  benefice, 

Ne  was  so  worldly  for  to  have  office. 

For  him  was°  levere  have  at  his  beddes  heed 
Twenty  bokes  clad  in  blak  or  reed 
Of  Aristotle  and  his  philosophye, 


295 


THE  PROLOGUE 


13 


Than  robes  riche  or  fithele  or  gay  sautrye. 
^But  al  be  that  he  was  a philosophise,0 
Yet  hadde  he  but  litel  gold  in  cofre ; 

But  al  that  he  mighte  of  his  freendes  hente, 
On  bokes  and  on  lerninge  he  it  spente, 

And  bisily  gan  for  the  soules  preye 
' Of  hem  that  yaf  him  wherwith  to  scoleye. 

Of  studie  took  he  most  cure  and  most  hede. 
Nought  o word  spak  he  more  than  was  nede, 
And  that  was  seyd  in  forme  and  reverence, 
And  short  and  quik  and  ful  of  hy  sentence ; 
Sowninge  in  moral  vertu  was  his  speche, 

And  gladly  wolde  he  lerne,  and  gladly  teche. 
$ A Sergeant  of  the  La  we,  war  and  wys, 
That  often  hadde  been  at  the  parvys, 

Ther  was  also,  ful  riche  of  excellence. 
Discreet  he  was  and  of  greet  reverence  — 

He  semed  swich,  his  wordes  weren  so  wise. 
Justice  he  was  ful  often  in  assise, 

By  patente  and  by  pleyn  commissioun ; 

Bor  his  science  and  for  his  heigh  renoun 
Of  fees  and  robes  hadde  he  many  oon. 

So  greet  a purchasour0  was  nowher  noon. 

Al  was  fee  simple  to  him  in  effect, 

His  purchasing  mighte  nat  been  infect. 


30Q 

3°5 

310 

315 

320 


14 


THE  PROLOGUE 


Nowher  so  bisy  a man  as  he  ther  nas, 

And  yet  he  semed  bisier  than  he  was. 

In  termes  hadde  he  cas°  and  domes  alle, 

That  from  the  time  of  king  William  were  falle. 

Therto  he  coude  endite  and  make  a thing,  325 

Ther  coude  no  wight  pinche  at  his  writing; 

And  every  statut  coude  he  pleyn  by  rote. 

He  rood  but  hoomly  in  a medlee  cote, 

Girt  with  a ceynt  of  silk  with  barres  smale ; 

Of  his  array  telle  I no  lenger  tale.  330 

A Frankeleyn  was  in  his  compaignye ; 

Whyt  was  his  berd  as  is  the  dayesye. 

Of  his  complexioun0  he  was  sangwyn. 

Wei  loved  he  by  the  morwe  a sop  in  wyn. 

To  liven  in  delyt  was  ever  his  wone,  335 

For  he  was  Epicurus  owene  sone, 

That  heeld  opinioun  that  pleyn  delyt° 

Was  verraily  felicitee  parfyt. 

An  housholdere,  and  that  a greet,  was  he ; 

Seynt  Julian0  he  was  in  his  contree.  340 

His  breed,  his  ale,  was  alweys  after  oon ; 

A bettre  envined  man  was  nowher  noon. 

Withouten  bake-mete  was  nevere  his  hous 
Of  fish  and  flesh,  and  that  so  plentevous, 

It  snewed  in  his  hous  of  mete  and  drinke. 


345 


THE  PROLOGUE 


15 


Of  alle  deyntees  that  men  coude  tliinke, 

After  the  sondry  sesouns  of  the  yeer, 
So^chaunged  he  his  mete  and  his  soper. 

Ful  many  a fat  partrich  hadde  he  in  mewe, 
And  many  a breem  and  many  a luce  in  stewe. 
Wo  was  his  cook  but  if  his  sauce  were 
Poynaunt  and  sharp,  and  redy  al  his  gere. 

His  table  dormant0  in  his  lialle  alway 
Stood  redy  covered  al  the  longe  day. 

At  sessiouns  ther  was  he  lord  and  sire°; 

Ful  ofte  time  he  was  knight  of  the  shire.0 

An  anlas  and  a gipser  al  of  silk 

Heng  at  his  girdel,  whyt  as  morne  milk. 

A shirreve  hadde  he  been  and  a countour ; 

Was  nowher  such  a worthy  vavasour. 

An  Haberdasher  and  a Carpenter, 

A Webbe,  a Dyere,  and  a Tapicer,  — 

And  they  were  clothed  alle  in  o liveree,0 
Of  a solempne  and  a greet  fraternitee. 

Ful  fresh  and  newe  hir  gere  apiked  was ; 

Hir  knives  were  chaped  nought  with  bras, 

But  al  with  silver  wrought  ful  clene  and  weel, 
Hir  girdles  and  hir  pouches  everydeel. 

Wei  semed  ech  of  hem  a fair  burgeys 
To  sitten  in  a yeldehalle  on  a deys. 


35° 

355 

360 

365 


37o 


16 


THE  PROLOGUE 


Everich  for  the  wisdom  that  he  can0 
Was  shaply  for  to  been  an  alderman ; 

Eor  catel  hadde  they  ynough  and  rente, 

And  eek  hir  wives  wolde  it  wel  assente, 

And  elles  certeyn  were  they  to  blame ; 375 

It  is  ful  fair  to  been  y-clept  ‘ Madame/ 

And  goon  to  vigilyes  al  bifore,0 
And  have  a mantel  royalliche  y-bore. 

I " A Cook  they  hadde  with  hem  for  the  nones, 

To  boille  the  chiknes  with  the  mary-bones,  380 

And  poudre-marchant  tart  and  galingale. 

Wel  coude  he  knowe  a draughte  of  London  ale. 

He  coude  roste  and  sethe  and  broille  and  frye, 

Maken  mortreux  and  wel  bake  a pye. 

But  greet  harm0  was  it,  as  it  thoughte  me,  385 

That  on  his  shine  a mormal  hadde  he ; 

Eor  blankmanger,  that  made  he  with  the  beste. 

' A Shipman  was  ther,  woning  fer  by  weste, 

For  aught  I woot  he  was  of  Dertemouthe. 

He  rood  upon  a rouncy  as  he  couthe,0  390 

In  a gowne  of  falding  to  the  knee. 

A daggere  hanging  on  a laas  hadde  he 
Aboute  his  nekke  under  his  arm  adoun. 

The  hote  somer  hadde  maad  his  hewe  al  broun  5 
And  certeynly  he  was  a good  felawe.0 


395 


THE  PROLOGUE 


17 


Ful  many  a draughte  of  wyn  had  he  y-drawe 
From  Burdeux-ward,0  whyl  that  the  chapman  sleep 
Of  nice  conscience  took  he  no  keep. 

If  that  he  faught  and  hadde  the  hyer  hond, 

By  water  he  sente  hem  hoom°  to  every  lond. 

But  of  his  craft  to  rekene  wel  his  tides, 

His  stremes  and  his  daungers  him  besides, 

His  herberwe  and  his  mone,  his  lodemenage, 

Ther  nas  noon  swich  from  Hulle  to  Cartage.0 
Hardy  he  was,  and  wys  to  undertake ; 

With  many  a tempest  hadde  his  berd  been  shake. 
He  knew  alle  the  havenes,  as  they  were, 

From  Gootlond  to  the  cape  of  Finistere, 

And  every  crike  in  Britayne  and  in  Spayne ; 

His  barge  y-cleped  was  the  Maudelayne.0 

With  us  ther  was  a Doctour  of  Phisyk, 

In  al  this  world  ne  was  ther  noon  him  lyk, 

To  speke  of°  phisik  and  of  surgerye; 

For  he  was  grounded  in  astronomye.0 
He  kepte  his  pacient  a ful  greet  del 
In  houres  by  his  magik  naturel. 

Wel  coude  he  fortunen  the  ascendent 
Of  his  images  for  his  pacient. 

He  knew  the  cause  of  everich  maladye, 

Were  it  of  hoot  or  cold,  or  moiste  or  drye,° 
c 


40a 

405 

410 

415 


420 


18 


THE  PROLOGUE 


And  where  engendred  and  of  what  humour. 
He  was  a verray  parfit  practisour ; 

The  cause  y-knowe  and  of  his  harm  the  rote, 
Anon  he  yaf  the  seke  man  his  bote. 

Ful  redy  hadde  he  his  apothecaries, 

To  sende  him  drogges  and  his  letuaries, 

For  ech  of  hem  made  other  for  to  winne; 

Hir  frendshipe  nas  nat  newe  to  biginne. 

Wei  knew  he  the  olde  Esculapius,0 
And  Deiscorides,  and  eek  Bufus, 

Old  Ypocras,  Haly  and  Galien, 

Serapion,  Kazis  and  Avicen, 

Averrois,  Damascien  and  Constantyn, 
Bernard  and  Gatesden  and  Gilbertyn. 

Of  his  diete  mesurable  was  he, 

For  it  was  of  no  superfluitee, 

But  of  greet  norissing  and  digestible. 

His  studie  was  but  litel  on  the  Bible. 

In  sangwin  and  in  pers  he  clad  was  al, 

Lined  with  taffata  and  with  sendal ; 

And  yet  he  was  but  esy  of  dispence.0 
He  kepte  that  he  wan  in  pestilence0; 

For  gold  in  phisik  is  a cordial,0  - 
Therfor  he  lovede  gold  in  special, 
t A good  Wyf  was  ther  of  biside  Bathe, 


425 

430 

435 

440 


445 


THE  PROLOGUE 


19 


But  she  was  somdel  deef,  and  that  was  scathe. 

Of  cloth-making  she  hadde  swiche  an  haunt0 
She  passed  hem  of  Ypres  and  of  Gaunt. 

In  al  the  parishe  wyf  ne  was  ther  noon° 

That  to  the  offring  bifore  hir  sholde  goon ; 

And  if  ther  dide,  certeyn  so  wrooth  was  she, 

That  she  was  out  of  alle  charitee. 

Hir  coverchiefs  ful  fine  were  of  ground, 

I dorste  swere  they  weyeden  ten°  pound, 

That  on  a Sonday  weren  upon  hir  heed. 

Hir  hosen  weren  of  fyn  scarlet  reed, 

Ful  streite  y-teyd,  and  shoes  ful  moiste  and  newe ; 
Bold  was  hir  face,  and  fair,  and  reed  of  hewe. 

She  was  a worthy  womman  al  hir  live, 

Housbondes  at  chirche-dore°  she  hadde  five, 
Withouten  other  compaignye  in  youthe0 
(But  therof  nedeth  nat  to  speke  as  nouthe). 

And  thryes  hadde  she  been  at  Jerusalem ; 

She  hadde  passed  many  a straunge  streem ; 

At  Rome  she  hadde  been  and  at  Boloigne,0 
In  Galice0  at  Seynt  J ame  and  at  Coloigne.0 
She  coude  moche  of  wandring  by  the  weye. 
Gat-tothed  was  she,  soothly  for  to  seye. 

Upon  an  amblere  esily  she  sat, 

Y-wimpled  wel,  and  on  hir  heed  an  hat 


450 

455 

460 

465 

470 


20 


THE  PROLOGUE 


As  brood  as  is  a bokeler  or  a targe ; 

A foot-mantel  about e hir  hipes  large, 

And  on  hir  feet  a paire  of  spores  sharpe. 

In  felaweship  wel  coude  she  laughe  and  carpe 
Of  remedies  of  love  she  knew  perchaunce,0 
For  she  coude  of  that  art  the  olde  daunce. 

A good  man  was  ther  of  religioun, 

\ And  was  a povre  Persolhst  of  a toun, 

But  riche  he  was  of  holy  thought  and  werk. 
He  was  also  a lerned  man,  a clerk, 

That  Cristes  gospel  trewely  wolde  preche ; 

His  parishens  devoutly  wolde  he  teche. 
Benigne  he  was  and  wonder  diligent 
And  in  adversitee  ful  pacient ; 

And  swich  he  was  y-preved  ofte  sithes. 

Ful  looth  were  him  to  cursen  for  his  tithes,0 
But  rather  wolde  he  yeven,  out  of  doute, 

Unto  his  povre  parishens  aboute 

Of  his  offring,  and  eek  of  his  substaunce.0 

He  coude  in  litel  thing  han  suffisaunce. 

Wyd  was  his  pari  she,  and  houses  fer  asonder, 
But  he  ne  lafte  nat  for  reyn  ne  thonder, 

In  siknes  nor  in  meschief  to  visite 

The  ferreste  in  his  parishe,  moche  and  lite, 

Upon  his  feet,  and  in  his  hand  a staf.° 


475 

480 

485 

490 


495 


THE  PROLOGUE 


21 


This  noble  ensample  to  his  sheep  he  yaf, 

That  first  he  wroughte  and  afterward  he  taughte  ; 
Out  of  the  gospel0  he  tho  wordes  caughte, 

And  this  figure  he  added  eek  therto 
That  “ If  gold  ruste,  what  shal  iren  do  ? ” 

For  if  a preest  be  foul,  on  whom  we  truste, 

No  wonder  is  a lewed  man  to  ruste ; 

And  shame  it  is,  if  a preest  take  keep, 

A shiten  shepherde  and  a elene  sheep. 

Wei  oughte  a preest  ensample  for  to  yive 
By  his  clennesse  how  that  his  sheep  shold  live. 
He  sette  nat  his  benefice  to  hire, 

And  leet  his  sheep  encombred  in  the  mire, 

And  ran  to  London,  unto  Seynt  Poules, 

To  seken  him  a chaunterye0  for  soules, 

Or  with  a bretherhed  to  been  withholde0 ; 

But  dwelte  at  hoom  and  kepte  wel  his  folde 
So  that  the  wolf  ne  made  it  nat  miscarie ; 

He  was  a shepherde  and  no  mercenarie. 

And  though  he  holy  were  and  vertuous, 

He  was  to  sinful  man  nat  despitous,0 
Ne  of  his  speche  daungerous  ne  digne, 

But  in  his  teching  discreet  and  benigne. 

To  drawen  folk  to  hevene  by  fairnesse,  - 
By  good  ensample,  this  was  his  bisinesse } 


500 

505 

51° 

515 

520 


22 


THE  PROLOGUE 


But  it  were  any  persone  obstinat, 

What  so  he  were,  of  heigh  or  lowe  estat, 

Him  wolde  he  snibben  sharply  for  the  nonis. 

A bettre  preest,  I trowe  that  nowher  noon  is. 

He  wayted  after  no  pompe  and  reverence,  525 

He  maked  him  a spiced0  conscience, 

But  Cristes  lore,  and  his  Appstles  twelve, 

He  taughte ; but  first  he  f olwed  it  himselve. 

* With  him  ther  was  a Plowman,  was  his  brother,0 
That  hadde  y-lad  of  dong  ful  many  a f other.  530 

A trewe  swinkere  and  a good  was  he, 

Livinge  in  pees  and  parfit  charitee. 

God  loved  he  best  with  al  his  hole  herte 
At  alle  times,  though  him  gamed  or  smerte,0 
And  thanne  his  neighebour  right  as  himselve.  535 
He  wolde  threshe,  and  therto  dike  and  delve, 

For  Cristes  sake,  for  every  povre  wight, 

Withouten  hire,  if  it  lay  in  his  might. 

His  tithes  payed  he  ful  faire  and  wel, 

Bothe  of  his  propre  swink  and  his  catel.°  540 

In  a tabard  he  rood  upon  a mere.0 

Ther  was  also  a Keve  and  a Millere, 

A Somnour  and  a Pardoner  also, 

A Maunciple  and  myself ; ther  were  namo. 

The  Millere  was  a stout  carl  for  the  nones,  545 


THE  PROLOGUE 


23 


Ful  big  he  was  of  braun  and  eek  of  bones ; 

That  proved  wel,  for  overal  ther  he  cam, 

At  wrastling  he  wolde  have  alwey  the  ram.° 

He  was  short-sholdred,  brood,  a thikke  knarre, 

Imer  nas  no  dore  that  he  nolde  heve  of  harre,  550 
Jdv  breke  it,  at  a renning,  with  his  heed. 

His  herd  as  any  sowe  or  fox  was  reed 
And  therto  brood,  as  though  it  were  a spade. 

Upon  the  cop  right  of  his  nose  he  hade 
A werte,  and  theron  stood  a tuft  of  heres,  555 

Reed  as  the  bristles  of  a sowes  eres ; 

His  nose-thirles  blake  were  and  wide0 ; 

A swerd  and  a bokeler  bar  he  by  his  side ; 

His  mouth  as  greet  was  as  a greet  forneys  ; , 

He  was  a janglere  and  a goliardeys,  560 

And  that0  was  most  of  sinne  and  harlotryes. 

Wei  coude  he  stolen  corn0  and  tollen  thryes; 

And  yet  he  hadde  a thombe  of  gold,0  pardee ! 

A whyt  cote  and  a blew  hood  wered  he. 

A baggepipe  wel  coude  he  bio  we  and  sowne,  565 

And  therwithal  he  broughte  us  out  of  towne. 

A gentil  Maunciple  was  ther  of  a temple, 

Of  which  achatours  mighte  take  exemple 
For  to  be  wise  in  bying  of  vitaille. 

For  whether  that  he  payde  or  took  by  taille,0 


570 


24 


THE  PROLOGUE 


Algate  he  wayted  so  in  his  achat, 

That  he  was  ay  biforn  and  in  good  stat. 

Now  is  nat  that  of  God  a ful  fair  grace, 

That  swich  a lewed  mannes  wit  shal  pace 

The  wisdom  of  an  heep  of  lerned  men  ! 575 

Of  maistres  hadde  he  mo  than  thryes  ten, 

That  were  of  lawe  expert  and  curious ; 

Of  wliiche  ther  were  a doseyn  in  that  hous 
Worthy  to  been  stiwardes  of  rente  and  lond 
Of  any  lord  that  is  in  Engelond,  580 

To  make  him  live  by  his  propre  good0 
In  honour  dettelees,  but  he  were  wood, 

Or  live  as  scarsly  as  him  list  desire ; 

And  able  for  to  helpen  al  a shire 

I11  any  cas  that  miglite  falle  or  happe ; 585 

And  yit  this  maunciple  sette  hir  aller°  cappe. 

The  Reve  was  a sclendre  colerik  man. 

His  berd  was  shave  as  ny  as  ever  he  can; 

His  heer  was  by  his  eres  round  y-shorn, 

His  top  was  dokked  lyk  a preest  biforn;  590 

Ful  longe  were  his  legges  and  ful  lene 
Y-lyk  a staf,  ther  was  no  calf  y-sene. 

Wei  coude  he  kepe  a gerner  and  a binne ; 

Ther  was  noon  auditour  coude  on  him  winne.° 

Wei  wiste  he  by  the  droughte  and  by  the  reyn  595 


THE  PROLOGUE 


25 


J?he  yelding  of  his  seed  and  of  his  greyn. 

His  lordes  sheep,  his  neet,  his  dayerye, 

His  swyn,  his  hors,  his  stoor,  and  his  pultrye, 

Was  hoolly  in  this  reves  governing, 

And  by  his  covenannt  yaf  the  rekening  600 

Sin  that  his  lord  was  twenty  yeer  of  age ; 

Ther  coude  no  man  bringe  him  in  arrerage. 

Ther  nas  baillif,  ne  herde,  ne  other  hine, 

That  he  ne  knew  his  sleighte0  and  his  covine ; 

They  were  adrad  of  him,  as  of  the  deeth.°  605 

His  woning  was  ful  fair  upon  an  heeth, 

With  grene  trees  shadwed  was  his  place. 

He  coude  bettre  than  his  lord  purchace. 

Ful  riche  he  was  astored  prively ; 

His  lord  wel  coude  he  plesen  subtilly  610 

To  yeve  and  lene  him  of  his  owene  good,0 
And  have  a thank  and  yet  a cote  and  hood. 

In  youthe  he  lerned  hadde  a good  mister ; 

He  was  a wel  good  wrighte,  a carpenter. 

This  reve  sat  upon  a ful  good  stot,  615 

That  was  al  pomely  grey  and  highte  Scot. 

A long  surcote  of  pers  upon  he  hade, 

And  by  his  side  he  bar  a rusty  blade. 

Of  Northfolk  was  this  reve  of  which  I telle, 

Biside  a toun  men  clepen  Baldeswelle. 


620 


26 


THE  PROLOGUE 


Tukked  he  was  as  is  a frere  aboute,0 

And  evere  he  rood  the  hindreste  of  our  route. 

A Somnour  was  ther  with  us  in  that  place, 

That  hadde  a fyr-reed  cherubinnes0  face, 

For  sawcefleem  he  was,  with  eyen  narwe ; 625 

As  hot  he  was  and  lecherous  as  a sparwe, 

With  scalled  browes  blake  and  piled  berd ; 

Of  his  visage  children  were  aferd. 

Ther  nas  quik-silver,  litarge,  ne  brimstoon, 

Boras,  ceruce,  ne  oille  of  tartre  noon,  630 

Ne  oynement  that  wolde  dense  and  bite, 

That  him  mighte  helpen  of  his  whelkes  white, 

Ne  of  the  knobbes  sittinge  on  his  chekes. 

Wei.  loved  he  garleek,  oynons,  and  eek  lekes, 

And  for  to  drinken  strong  wyn  reed  as  blood.  635 

Thanne  wolde  he  speke  and  crye  as  he  were  wood. 
And  whan  that  he  wel  dronken  hadde  the  wyn, 

Than  wolde  he  speke  no  word  but  Latyn. 

A fewe  termes  hadde  he,  two  or  thre, 

That  he  had  lerned  out  of  som  decree ; 640 

No  wonder  is,  he  herde  it  al  the  day ; 

And  eek  ye  knowen  wel,  how  that  a jay 
Can  clepen  ‘ Watte/  as  well  as  can  the  pope. 

But  whoso  coude  in  other  thing  him  grope,0 
Thanne  hadde  he  spent  al  his  philosophye ; 645 


THE  PROLOGUE 


Ay  c Questio  quid  iuris°  ? wolde  he  crye. 

He  was  a gentil  harlot  and  a kinde ; 
^Afrbettre  felawe  sholde  men  nought  finde. 
He  wolde  suffre  for  a quart  of  wyn 
A good  felawe  to  have  his  concubyn 
A twelf-month,  an  excuse  him  atte  fulle. 
And  prively  a finch0  eek  coude  he  pulle. 
And  if  he  fond  owher  a good  felawe, 

He  wolde  techen  him  to  have  non  awe, 

In  swich  cas,  of  the  Erchedeknes0  curs, 

But  if  a mannes  soule  were  in  his  purs ; 

For  in  his  purs  he  sholde  y-punished  be. 
*^Purs  is  the  Erchedeknes  helle/  seyde  he. 
TTut  wel  I woot  he  lyed  right  in  dede ; 

Of  cursing  oughte  ech  gilty  man  him  drede 
(For  curs  wol  slee  right  as  assoilling  savith) 
And  also  war  him  of  a Signiftcavit. 

In  daunger0  hadde  he  at  his  owene  gise 
The  yonge  girles0  of  the  diocise, 

And  knew  hir  counseil,  and  was  al  hir  reed. 
A gerland  hadde  he  set  upon  his  heed 
As  greet  as  it  were  for  an  ale-stake ; 

A bokeler  hadde  he  maad  him  of  a cake. 

With  him  ther  rood  a gentil  Pardoner0 
Of  Bouncivale,  his  frend  and  his  compeer, 


28 


THE  PROLOGUE 


That  streight  was  comen  fro  the  court  of  Rome. 

Ful  loude  he  song,  ‘ Com  hider,  love,  to  me ! ) 

This  somnour  bar  to  him  a stif  burdoun, 

Was  nevere  trompe  of  half  so  greet  a soun. 

This  pardoner  hadde  heer  as  yelow  as  wex,  675 

But  smothe  it  heng,  as  doth  a strike  of  flex; 

By  ounces  henge  his  lokkes  that  he  hadde, 

And  therwith  he  his  shuldres  overspradde ; 

But  thinne  it  lay  by  colpons  oon  and  oon ; 

But  hood  for  jolitee  wered  he  noon,  680 

For  it  was  trussed  up  in  his  walet. 

Him  thoughte  he  rood  al  of  the  newe  jet; 

Dishevele,  save  his  cappe,  he  rood  al  bare. 

Swiche  glaringe  eyen  hadde  he  as  an  hare. 

A vernicle0  hadde  he  sowed  upon  his  cappe.  685 

His  walet  lay  biforn  him  in  his  lappe 
Bret-ful  of  pardoun  come  from  Rome  al  hoot, 

A voys  he  hadde  as  smal  as  hath  a goot. 

No  berd  hadde  he,  ne  nevere  sholde  have, 

As  smothe  it  was  as  it  were  late  yshave ; 690 

******* 

But  of  his  craft,  fro  Berwik  into  Ware, 

Ne  was  ther  swich  another  pardoner. 

For  in  his  male  he  hadde  a pilwe-beer, 

Which  that,  he  seyde,  was  our  lady0  veyl;  695 


THE  PROLOGUE 


29 


He  seyde,  he  hadde  a gobet  of  the  seyl 
That  Seynt  Peter  hadde  whan  that  he  wente 
Upon  the  see  til  Jhesu  Crist  him  hente. 

He  hadde  a croys  of  latoun  ful  of  stones 
And  in  a glas  he  hadde  pigges  bones. 

But  with  thise  relikes,  whan  that  he  fond 
A povre  person  dwelling  upon  lond,° 

Upon  a day°  he  gat  him  more  moneye 
Than  that  the  person  gat  in  monthes  tweye. 

And  thus  with  feyned  flaterye  and  japes, 

He  made  the  person  and  the  peple  his  apes.° 

But  trewely  to  tellen  atte  laste, 

He  was  in  chirche  a noble  ecclesiaste ; 

Wei  coude  he  rede  a lessoun  or  a storie, 

But  alderbest0  he  song  an  offertorie ; 

For  wel  he  wiste,  whan  that  song  was  songe, 

He  moste  preche  and  wel  affile  his  tonge 
To  winne  silver,  as  he  ful  wel  coude ; 

Therefore  he  song  so  meriely  and  loude. 

Now  have  I told  you  shortly  in  a clause0 
Thestat,0  tharray,  the  nombre,  and  eek  the  cause 
Why  that  assembled  was  this  compaignye 
In  Southwerk  at  this  gentil  hostelrye 
That  highte  the  Tabard,  faste  by  the  Belle. 

But  now  is  time  to  yow  for  to  telle0 


700 

705 

710 

715 


72a 


30 


THE  PROLOGUE 


How  that  we  baren  us  that  ilke  night, 

Whan  we  were  in  that  hostelrye  alight. 

And  after  wol  I telle  of  our  viage 
And  al  the  remenaunt  of  our  pilgrimage, 

But  first  I pray  yow  of  your  curteisye, 

That  ye  narette  it  nat  my  vileinye, 

Though  that  I pleynly  speke  in  this  matere, 

To  telle  yow  hir  wordes  and  hir  chere, 

Ne  though  I speke  hir  wordes  proprely; 

For  this  ye  knowen  al  so  wel  as  I, 

Who-so  shal  telle  a tale  after  a man, 

He  moot  reherce  as  ny  as  ever  he  can 
Everich  a0  word,  if  it  be  in  his  charge,0 
Al  speke  he  never  so  rudeliche  and  large ; 

Or  elles  he  moot  telle  his  tale  untrewe, 

Or  feyne  thing,0  or  finde  wordes  newe. 

Fie  may  nat  spare,  although  he  were  his  brother; 
He  moot  as  wel  seye  o word  as  another.0 
Crist  spak  himself  ful  brode  in  holy  writ, 

And  wel  ye  woot  no  vileinye  is  it. 

Eek  Plato0  seitli,  whoso  can  him  rede, 

‘ The  wordes  mote  be  cosin  to  the  dede.’ 

Also  I prey  yow  to  foryeve  it  me 
Al  have  I nat°  set  folk  in  hir  degree 
Here  in  this  tale  as  that  they  sholde  stonde ; 


725 

730 

735 

740 


745 


THE  PROLOGUE 


31 


My  wit  is  short,  ye  may  wel  under stonde. 

Greet  chere  made  our  host  us  everichon, 

And  to  the  soper  sette  he  us  anon ; 

And  served  us  with  vitaille  at  the  beste. 

Strong  was  the  wyn  and  wel  to  drinke  us  leste. 

A semely  man  our  hoste0  was  withalle 
For  to  been  a marshal  in  an  halle ; 

A large  man  he  was  with  eyen  stepe, 

A fairer  burgeys  was  ther  noon  in  Chepe ; 

Bold  of  his  speche  and  wys  and  wel  y-taught, 
And  of  manhod  him  lakkede  right  naught. 

Eek  therto  he  was  right  a mery  man, 

And  after  soper  pleyen  he  bigan, 

And  spak  of  mirthe  amonges  othere  thinges, 
Whan  that  we  hadde  maad  our  rekeninges0  5 
And  seyde  thus,  ‘Now,  lordinges,  trewely 
Ye  been  to  me  right  welcome  hertely ; 

For  by  my  trouthe,  if  that  I shal  nat  lye, 

I ne  saugh  this  yeer  so  mery  a compaignye 
At  ones  in  this  herberwe  as  is  now. 

Fayn  wolde  I doon  yow  mirthe,  wiste  I how. 
~And  of  a mirthe  I am  right  now  bithought, 

To  doon  yow  ese,  and  it  shal  coste  nought. 

‘ Ye  goon  to  Caunterbury  (God  yow  spede ! 0 
The  blisful  martir  quite  yow  your  mede !), 


750 

755 

760 

765 

770 


32 


THE  PROLOGUE 


And  wel  I woot,  as  ye  goon  by  the  weye, 

Ye  shapen  yow  to  talen  and  to  pleye° ; 

For  trewely  contort  ne  mirthe  is  noon 
To  ride  by  the  weye  doumb  as  a stoon ; 

And  therfor  wol  I maken  yow  disport,  775 

As  I seyde  erst,  and  doon  yow  som  contort 
And  if  yow  liketh0  alle  by  0011  assent 
For  to  stonden  at  my  jugement, 

And  for  to  werken  as  I shal  yow  seye ; 

Tomorwe  whan  ye  riden  by  the  weye,  780 

N ow  by  my  fader0  soule,  that  is  deed, 

But  ye  be  merye,  I wol  yeve  yow  myn  heed! 

Hold  up  your  hond°  withouten  more  speche.’ 

Our  counted  was  nat  longe  for  to  seche ; 

Us  thoughte0  it  was  nought  worth  to  make  it  wys,  785 
And  graunted  him  withouten  more  avys, 

And  bad  him  seye  his  verdit  as  him  lest. 

‘ Lordinges,’  quod  he,  ‘ now  herkneth  for  the  beste ;° 
But  tak  it  not,  I prey  yow,  in  desdeyn. 

"Tliis  is  the  poynt,  to  speken  short  and  pleyn,  790 

That  ech  of  yow  to  shorte  with0  our  weye 
In  this  viage  shal  telle  tales  tweye, 

To  Caunterbury-ward,  I mene  it  so, 

And  hom-ward  he  shal  tellen  othere  two, 

Of  aventures  that  whilom  han  bifalle. 


795 


THE  PROLOGUE 


33 


And  which  of  yow  that  bereth  him  beste  of  alle, 

That  is  to  seyn,  that  telle th  in  this  cas 
Tales  of  best  sentence  and  most  solas, 

Shal  han  a soper  at  our  aller°  cost 

Here  in  this  place  sitting  by  this  post  800 

Whan  that  we  come  agayn  fro  Caunterbur^^ 

And  for  to  make  yow  the  more  mery 
I wol  myselven  goodly  with  yow  ride 
Right  at  myn  owene  cost,  and  be  your  gide. 

And  who-so  wol  my  jugement  withseye  805 

Shal  paye  al  that  we  spenden  by  the  weye. 

And  if  ye  vouchesauf  that  it  be  so, 

Tel  me  anon  withouten  wordes  mo, 

And  I wol  erly  shape  me  therfore.’ 

This  thing  was  graunted,  and  our  othes  swore0  810 
With  ful  glad  herte,  and  preyden  him  also 
That  he  wold  vouchesauf  for  to  do  so, 

And  that  he  wolde  been  our  governour 
And  of  our  tales  juge  and  reportour, 

And  sette  a soper  at  a certeyn  prys ; 815 

And  we  wol  reuled  been  at  his  devys, 

In  heigh  and  lowe.°  And  thus  by  oon  assent 
We  been  accorded  to  his  jugement. 

And  therupon  the  wyn  was  fet  an  oon ; 

We  dronken,  and  to  reste  wente  echoon,  820 

D 


34 


THE  PROLOGUE 


Withouten  any  lenger  taryinge. 

A-morwe,  whan  that  day  bigan  to  springe, 

Up  roos  our  host  and  was  our  alter  cok, 

And  gadrede  us  togidre  alle  in  a flok, 

And  forth  we  riden  a litel  more  than  pas, 

Unto  the  Watering0  of  seynt  Thomas. 

And  there  our  host  bigan  his  hors  areste, 

And  seyde,  ‘ Lordinges,  herkneth  if  yow  leste ; 
Ye  woot0  your  forward,  and  I it  yow  recorde. 

If  even-song  and  morwe-song  acorde,0 
Lat  se  now  who  shal  telle  the  firste  tale. 

As  ever  mote  I drinke  wyn  or  ale, 

Who-so  be  rebel  to  my  jugement0 

Shal  paye  for  al  that  by  the  weye  is  spent. 

Now  draweth  cut,  er  that  we  ferrer  twinne; 

He  which  that  hath  the  shortest  shal  biginne. 
Sir  Knight/  quod  he,  c my  maister  and  my  lord, 
Now  draweth  cut,  for  that  is  myn  acord. 
Cometh0  neer/  quod  he,  ‘ my  lady  Prioresse ; 
And  ye,  sir  Clerk,  lat  be  your  shamfastnesse, 
Ne  studieth  nought;  ley  hond  to,  every  man.’ 
Anon  to  drawen  every  wight  bigan, 

And  shortly  for  to  tellen  as  it  was, 

Were  it  by  aventure  or  sort  or  cas, 

The  sothe  is  this,  the  cut  til  to  the  knight, 


825 

830 

835 

840 

845 


THE  PROLOGUE 


35 


Of  which  ful  blithe  and  glad  was  every  wight; 

And  telle  he  moste  his  tale  as  was  resoun 
By  forward  and  by  composicioun, 

As  ye  han  herd ; what  nedeth  wordes  mo  ? 

And  whan  this  gode  man  saugh  that  it  was  so,  850 
As  he  that  wys  was  and  obedient 
To  kepe  his  forward  by  his  free  assent, 

He  seyde,  ‘ Sin  I shal  bigin ne  the  game, 

What,  welcome  be  the  cut  a Goddes  name ! 

Now  lat  us  ride,  and  herkneth  what  I seye.?  855 

And  with  that  word  we  riden  forth  our  weye ; 

And  he  bigan  with  right  a mery  chere 
His  tale  anon,  and  seyde  in  this  manere. 

is  Hur  6c 


sc 


, ^ 


THE  KNIGHT’S  TALE 


Whilom,  as  olde  stories0  tellen  us, 

Ther  was  a duk°  that  highte  Theseus  ; 860 

Of  Atthenes  he  was  lord  and.  governour, 

And  in  his  time  swich  a conquerour 
That  gretter  was  ther  noon  under  the  sonne. 

Ful  many  a riche  contree0  hadde  he  wonne ; 

AYhat  with  his  wisdom  and  his  chivalrye  865 

He  conquered  al  the  regne  of  Femenye,0 
That  whilom  was  y-cleped  Scithia; 

And  weddede  the  queen  Ipolita, 

And  broughte  hir  hoom  with  him  in  his  contree 
With  muchel  glorie  and  greet  solempnitee,  870 

And  eek  hir  yonge  suster  Emelye. 

And  thus  with  victorie  and  with  inelodye 
Lete  I this  noble  duk  to  Atthenes  ride, 

And  al  his  hoost  in  armes  him  biside. 

And  certes,  if  it  nere  to  long  to  here,  875 

I wolde  ban  told  yow  fully  the  manere, 

How  wonnen  was  the  regne  of  Femenye 

30 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


By  Theseus  and  by  his  chivalrye; 

And  of  the  grete  bataille  for  the  nones 
Bitwixen  Atthenes  and  Amazones ; 

And  how  asseged  was  Ipolita, 

The  faire,  hardy  queen  of  Scithia ; 

And  of  the  feste  that  was  at  hir  weddinge, 
And  of  the  tempest  at  hir  hoom-cominge ; 
But  al  that  thing  I moot  as  now°  forbere. 

I have,  God  woot,  a large  feeld  to  ere, 

And  wayke  been  the  oxen  in  my  plough  $ 
The  remenant  of  the  talc  is  long  ynough, 

I wol  nat  letten  eek  noon  of  this  route. 

Lat  every  felawe  telle  his  tale  aboute, 

And  lat  see  now  who  shal  the  soper  winne ; 
And  ther  I lefte,  I wol  ageyn  biginne. 

This  duk  of  whom  I make  inencioun 
When  he  was  come  almost  unto  the  toun, 
In  al  his  wele  and  in  his  moste  pride, 

He  was  war,  as  he  caste  his  eye  aside, 
Wher  that  ther  kneled  in  the  heighe  weye 
A compaignye  of  ladies,  tweye  and  tweye, 
Ech  after  other,  clad  in  clothes  blake ; 

But  swich  a cry  and  swich  a wo  they  make 
That  in  this  world  nis  creature  livinge 
That  herde  swich  another  weymentinge; 


38 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


And  of  this  cry  they  nolde  nevere  stenten, 

Til  they  the  reynes  of  his  bridel  henten. 

6 What  folk  been  ye,  that  at  myn  hoom-cominge 
Perturben  so  my  feste  with  cryinge  ? ’ 

Quod  Theseus,  ‘ have  ye  so  greet  envye 
Of  myn  honour  that  thus  compleyne  and  crye  ? 

Or  who  hath  yow  misboden  or  offended  ? 

And  telleth  me  if  it  may  been  amended; 

And  why  that  ye  been  clothed  thus  in  blak.  * 

The  eldeste  lady  of  hem  alle  spak, 

Whan  she  hadde  swowned  with  a deedly  chere, 
That  it  was  routhe  for  to  seen  and  here, 

And  seyde,  ‘ Lord,  to  whom  Fortune  hath  yiven 
Victorie  and  as  a conquerour  to  liven, 

Nought  greveth  us  your  glorie  and  your  honour ; 
But  we  biseken  mercy  and  socour. 

Have  mercy  on  our  wo  and  our  distresse, 

Som  droppe  of  pitee  thurgh  thy  gentillesse 
Upon  us  wrecched  wommen  lat  thou  falle. 

For  certes,  lord,  ther  is  noon  of  us  alle, 

That  she  ne  hath  been  a duchesse  or  a quene ; 
Now  be -we  caitives,  as  it  is  wel  sene, 

Thanked0  be  Fortune  and  hir  false  wheel 
That  noon  estat  assureth  to  be  weel.° 

And  certes,  lord,  to  abiden  your  presence, 


905 

910 

915 

920 

925 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


39 


Here  in  the  temple  of  the  goddesse  Clemence 
We  han  ben  waitinge  al  this  fourtenight; 

Now  help  ns,  lord,  sith  it  is  in  thy  might.  930 

I wrecche,  which  that  wepe  and  waille  thus, 

Was  whilom  wyf  to  king  Capaneus, 

That  starf 0 at  Thebes ; cursed  be  that  day  ! 

And  alle  we,  that  been  in  this  array, 

And  maken  al  this  lamentacioun,  935 

We  losten  alle°  our  housbondes  at  that  toun, 

Whyl  that  the  sege  theraboute  lay. 

And  yet  now  the  olde  Creon,  weylaway ! 

That  lord  is  now  of  Thebes  the  citee, 

Fulfild  of  ire  and  of  iniquitee,  940 

He,  for  despyt  and  for  his  tirannye, 

To  do  the  dede  bodies  vileinye, 

Of  alle  our  lordes0  whiche  that  ben  slawe 
Hath  alle  the  bodies  on  an  heep  y-drawe, 

And  wol  nat  suffren  hem,  by  noon  assent,  945 

Neithef  to  been  y-buried  nor  y-brent, 

But  maketh  houndes  ete  hem  in  despyt.’ 

And  with  that  word  withouten  more  respyt 
They  fillen  gruf  and  criden  pitously, 

‘Have  on  us  wrecched  wommen  som  mercy,  95a 

And  lat  our  sorwe  sinken  in  thyn  herte.’ 

This  gentil  duk  doun  from  his  courser  sterte 


40 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


With  herte  pitous,  whan  he  herde  hem  speke 
Him  thoughte  that  his  lierte  wolde  breke, 

Whan  he  saugh  hem  so  pitous  and  so  mat, 

That  whilom  weren  of  so  greet  estat ; 

And  in  his  armes  he  hem  alle  up  hente,° 

And  hem  conforteth0  in  ful  good  entente, 

And  swoor  his  ooth,  as  he  was  trewe  knight, 

He  wolde  doon  so  ferforthly  his  might 
Upon  the  tiraunt  Creon  hem  to  wreke, 

That  al  the  peple  of  Grece  sholde  speke 
How  Creon  was  of  Theseus  y-served 
As  he  that  hadde  his  deeth  ful  wel  deserved. 
And  right  anoon  withouten  more  abood 
His  baner  he  desplayeth  and  forth  rood 
To  Thebes-ward,  and  al  his  host  biside. 

No  neer  Atthenes  wolde  he  go  ne  ride, 

Ne  take  his  ese  fully  half  a day, 

But  onward  on  his  wey  that  night  he  lay ; 

And  sente  anoon  Ipolita  the  quene, 

And  Emelye  hir  yonge  suster  shene, 

Unto  the  toun  of  Atthenes  to  dwelle, 

And  forth  he  rit ; ther  is  namore  to  telle. 

The  rede  statue  of  Mars  with  spere  and  targe 
So  shineth  in  his  white  baner  large, 

That  alle  the  feeldes0  gliteren  up  and  doun ; 


95  S 

960 

965 

970 

975 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


41 


And  by  his  baner  born  is  his  penoun 
Of  gold  ful  riche,  in  which  ther  was  y-bete 
The  Minotaur  which  that  he  slough  in  Crete.  980 

Thus  rit  this  duk,  thus  rit  this  conquerour, 

And  in  his  host  of  chivalrye  the  flour, 

Til  that  he  cam  to  Thebes,  and  alighte 
Baire  in  a feeld,  ther  as  he  thoughte  fighte.0 
But  shortly  for  to  speken  of  this  thing,  985 

With  Creon,  which  that  was  of  Thebes  king, 

He  f aught,  and  slough  him  manly  as  a knight 
In  pleyn  bataille,  and  putte  the  folk  to  flight ; 

And  by  assaut  he  wan  the  citee  after, 

And  rente  adoun  bothe  wal  and  sparre  and  rafter ; 990 

And  to  the  ladies  he  restored  agayn 

The  bones  of  hir  housbondes  that  were  slayn, 

To  doon  obsequies,  as  was  tho  the  gise. 

But  it  were  al  to  longe  for  to  devise 

The  grete  clamour  and  the  waymentinge  995 

That  the  ladies  made  at  the  bremiinge 

Of  the  bodies,  and  the  grete  honour 

That  Theseus,  the  noble  conquerour, 

Doth  to  the  ladies,  whan  they  from  him  wente ; 

But  shortly  for  to  telle  is  myn  entente.  1000 

Whan  that  this  worthy  duk,  this  Theseus, 

Hath  Creon  slayn,  and  wonne  Thebes  thus, 


42 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


Stille  in  that  feeld  he  took  al  night  his  reste, 
And  dide  with  al  the  contree  as  him  leste. 

To  ransake  in  the  tas  of  bodies  dede, 

Hem  for  to  strepe  of  harneys  and  of  wede, 

The  pilours  diden  bisinesse0  and  cure, 

After  the  bataille  and  disconfiture. 

And  so  bifel  that  in  the  tas  they  founde, 
Thurgh-girt  with  many  a grevous,  blody  wounde, 
Two  yonge  knightes  ligging  by  and  by, 

Bothe  in  oon  armes  wrought  f ul  richely ; 

Of  whiche  two,  Arcita  highte  that  oon, 

And  that  other  knight  highte  Palamon. 

N at  fully  quike  ne  fully  deed  they  were, 

But  by  hir  cote-armures  and  by  hir  gere 
The  heraudes  knewe  hem  best  in  special0 
As  they  that  weren  of  the  blood  royal 
Of  Thebes,  and  of  sustren  two  y-born. 

Out  of  the  tas  the  pilours  han  hem  torn, 

And  han  hem  caried  softe  unto  the  tente 
Of  Theseus ; and  he  ful  sone  hem  sente 
To  Atthenes,  to  dwellen  in  prisoun 
Perpetually,  he  nolde  no  raunsoun. 

And  whan  this  worthy  duk  hath  thus  y-don, 

He  took  his  host  and  hoom  he  rit  anon 
With  laurer  crowned  as  a conquerour ; 


THE  KNIGHT’S  TALE 


43 


And  there  he  livith  in  joye  and  in  honour 
Terme  of  his  lyf ; what  nedeth  wordes  mo  ? 

And  in  a tour  in  angwish  and  in  wo  2030 

This  Palamon  and  his  felawe  Arcite0 

For  evermore ; ther  may  no  gold  hem  quite. 

This  passeth  yeer  by  yeer  and  day  by  day, 

Til  it  hi  ones  in  a morwe  of  May 

That  Emelye,  that  fairer  was  to  sene  1035 

Than  is  the  lilie  upon  his  stalke  grene, 

And  fresher  than  the  May  with  floures  newe 
(For  with  the  rose0  colour  strof  hir  hewe, 

I noot  which  was  the  fairer  of  hem  two), 

Er  it  were  day,  as  was  hir  wone  to  do,  1040 

She  was  arisen  and  al  redy  dight ; 

For  May  wol  have  no  slogardye  anight. 

The  sesoun  priketh  every  gentil  herte, 

And  maketh  him  out  of  his  sleep  to  sterte, 

And  seith,  6 Arys,  and  do  thyn  observaunce.0  * 

This  maketh  Emelye  have  remembraunce 
To  doon  honour  to  May,  and  for  to  rise.0 
Y-clothed  was  she  fresh,  for  to  devise0 ; 

Hir  yelow  heer  was  broyded  in  a tresse, 

Bihinde  hir  bak,  a yerde  long,  I gesse. 

And  in  the  gardin,  at  the  sonne°  upriste, 

She  walketh  up  and  doun,  and  as  her  liste° 


105a 


44 


THE  KNIGHT’S  TALE 


She  gadereth  floures,  party  white  and  rede, 

To  make  a subtil  gerland  for  hir  hede, 

And  as  an  aungel  hevenishly  she  song. 

The  grete  tour,  that  was  so  thikke  and  strong, 
Which  of  the  castel  was  the  chief  dongeoun, 

Ther  as  the  knightes  weren  in  prisoun 
(Of  which  I tolde  you  and  tellen  shal°), 

Was  evene  joynant  to  the  gardin-wal, 

Ther  as  this  Emelye  hadde  hir  pleyinge.0 
Bright  was  the  sonne  and  cleer  in  that  morninge, 
And  Palamon,  this  woful  prisoner, 

As  was  his  wone,  by  leve  of  his  gayler, 

Was  risen,  and  romed  in  a chambre  on  heigh, 

In  which  he  al  the  noble  citee  seigh, 

And  eek  the  gardin,  ful  of  braunches  grene, 

Ther  as  this  freshe  Emelye  the  shene 
Was  in  hir  walk,  and  romed  up  and  doun. 

This  sorweful  prisoner,  this  Palamoun, 

Goth  in  the  chambre,  roming  to  and  fro, 

And  to  himself  compleyning  of  his  wo  ; 

That  he  was  born,  ful  ofte  he  seyde,  alas ! 

And  so  bifel,  by  aventure  or  cas, 

That  thurgh  a window,  thikke  of  many  a barre 
Of  iren  greet,  and  square  as  any  sparre, 

He  caste  his  eye  upon  Emelya, 


I055 


106c 


1065 


1070 


1075 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


45 


And  tlierwithal  lie  bleynte  and  cride  ‘ A!  ’ 

As  though  he  stongen  were  unto  the  herte. 

And  with  that  cry  Arcite  anon  up-sterte, 

And  seyde,  4 Cosin  myn,  what  eyleth  thee, 

That  art  so  pale  and  deedly  on  to  see  ? 

Why  cridestow  ? who  hath  thee  doon  offence  ? 
For  Goddes  love,  tak  al  in  pacience 
Our  prisoun,  for  it  may  non  other  be ; 

Fortune  hath  yeven  us  this  adversitee. 

Som  wikke  aspect  or  disposicioun0 
Of  Saturne  by  sum  constellacioun, 

Hath  yeven  us  this,  although  we  hadde  it  sworn; 
So  stood  the  hevene  whan  that  we  were  born, 

We  moste  endure  it,  this  is  the  short  and  pleyn.’ 
This  Palamon  answerde  and  seyde  ageyn, 

‘ Cosin,  for  sothe,  of  this  opinioun 
Thou  hast  a veyn  imaginacioun.0 
This  prison  caused  me  nat  for  to  crye, 

But  I was  hurt  right  now  tliurgh-out  myn  ye 
Into  myn  herte,  that0  wol  my  bane  be. 

The  fairnesse  of  that  lady  that  I see 
Yond  in  the  gardin  romen  to  and  fro 
Is  cause  of  al  my  crying  and  my  wo. 

I noot  wher  she  be  worn  man  or  goddesse, 

But  Venus  is  it,  soothly,  as  I gesse.’ 


1080 


1085 


1090 


1095 


1100 


46 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


And  therwithal  on  knees  doun  he  fil 

And  seyde,  1 Venus,  if  it  be  thy  wil 

Yow°  in  this  gardin  thus  to  transfigure  1105 

Bifore  me,  sorweful,  wrecche  creature, 

Out  of  this  prise un  help  that  we  may  scapen. 

And  if  so  be  my  destinee  be  shapen 
By  eterne  word  to  dyen  in  prisoun, 

Of  our  linage  have  som  compassioun  mo 

That  is  so  lowe  y-brought  by  tirannye.* 

And  with  that  word  Arcite  gan  espye 
Wher  as  this  lady  romed  to  and  fro, 

And  with  that  sighte  hir  beau  tee  hurte  him  so, 

That,  if  that  Palamon  was  wounded  sore,  1115 

Arcite  is  hurt  as  moche  as  he,  or  more. 

And  with  a sigh  he  seyde  pitously, 

‘ The  freslie  beautee  sleetli  me  sodeynly 
Of  hir  that  rometh  in  the  yonder  place ; 

And  but  I have  hir  mercy  and  hir  grace,  1120 

That  I may  seen  hir  atte  leste  weye,° 

I nam  but  deed ; ther  nis  no  more  to  seye.’ 

This  Palamon,  whan  he  tho  wordes  herde, 
Dispitously  he  loked  and  answerde, 

‘ Whether0  seistow  this  in  ernest  or  in  pley  ? 9 1125 

‘Nay,’  quod  Arcite,  ‘in  ernest,  by  my  fey! 

God  help  me  so,  me  list  ful  evele  pleye.0* 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


This  Palamon  gan  knitte  his  brovves  tweye 
1 It  nere/  quod  he,  ‘ to  thee  no  greet  honour 
For  to  be  fals  ne  for  to  be  traitour 
To  me,  that  am  thy  cosin  and  thy  brother 
Y-sworn°  ful  depe  and  ech  of  us  til  other, 
That  never,  for  to  dyen  in  the  peyne,° 

Til  that  the  deeth  departe  shal  us  tweyne, 
Neither  of  us  in  love  to  hindren  other, 

Ne  in  non  other  cas,  my  leve  brother ; 

But  that  thou  sholdest  trewely  forthren  me 
In  every  cas,  and  I shal  forthren  thee. 

This  was  thyn  ooth  and  myn  also  certeyn, 

I wot  right  wel,  thou  darst  it  nat  withseyn. 
Thus  artow  of  my  counseil  out  of  doute. 

And  now  thou  woldest  falsly  been  aboute? 

To  love  my  lady  whom  I love  and  serve, 

And  evere  shal  til  that  myn  herte  sterve. 
Now  certes,  false  Arcite,  thou  shalt  nat  so; 

I loved  hir  first,  and  tolde  thee  my  wo 
As  to  my  counseil  and  my  brother  sworn 
To  forthre  me,  as  I have  told  biforn. 

For  which  thou  art  y-bounden  as  a knight 
To  helpen  me,  if  it  lay  in  thy  might, 

Or  elles  artow  fals,  I dar  wel  seym* 

This  Arcite  ful  proudly  spak  ageyn, 


48 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


‘ Thou  shalt,°  ’ quod  he,  ‘ be  rather  fals  than  I ; 

But  thou  art°  fals,  I telle  thee,  utterly ; 

For  par  amour0  I loved  hir  first  er  thow.  1155 

What  wiltow  seyn  ? thou  wistest  nat  yet  now 
Whether  she  be  a womman  or  goddesse ! 

Thyn  is  affeccioun  of  holinesse, 

And  myn  is  love  as  to  a creature ; 

For  which  I tolde  thee  myn  aventure  1160 

As  to  my  cosin  and  my  brother  sworn. 

I pose  that  thou  lovedest  hir  biforn, 

Wostow  nat  wel  the  olde  clerkes  sawe, 

That0  66  who  shal  yeve  a lover  any  lawe  ? ” 

Love  is  a gretter  lawe,  by  my  pan,  1165 

Than  may  be  yeve  to  any  erthely  man. 

And  therfor  positif  lawe  and  swich  decree0 
Is  broke  alday  for  love  in  ech  degree.0 
A man  moot  nedes  love,  maugree  his  heed ; 

He  may  nat  fleen  it,  though  he  sholde  be  deed,  1170 
A1  be  she0  mayde  or  widwe  or  elles  wyf. 

And  eek  it  is  nat  lykly,  al  thy  lyf, 

To  stonden  in  hir  grace,  namore  shal  I ; 

For  wel  thou  wost  thyselven,  verraily, 

That  thou  and  I b.e  dampned  to  prisoun  1175 

Perpetuelly ; us  gayneth  no  raunsoun. 

We  strive,  as  dide  the  houndes  for  the  boon, 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


49 


They  foughte  al  day,  and  yet  hir  part  was  noon ; 

Ther  cam  a kite,  whyl  that  they  were  so  wrothe, 

And  bar  awey  the  boon  bitwixe  hem  bothe.  1180 

And  fcherfore  at  the  kinges  court,  my  brother, 

Ech  man  for  himself,  ther  is  non  other. 

Love  if  thee  list,  for  I love  and  ay  shal ; 

And  soothly,  leve  brother,  this  is  al. 

Here  in  this  prisoun  mote  we  endure,  1185 

And  everich  of  us  take  his  a, venture.5 

Greet  was  the  stryf  and  long  bitwixe  hem  tweye, 

If  that  I hadde  leyser  for  to  seye ; 

But  to  theffect.  It  happed  on  a day 

(To  telle  it  yow  as  shortly  as  I may),  1190 

A worthy  duk  that  highte  Perotheus, 

That  felawe  was  unto  duk  Theseus 

Sin  thilke  day  that  they  were  children  lite, 

Was  come  to  Atthenes,  his  felawe  to  visite, 

And  for  to  pleye,  as  he  was  wont  to  do ; 119^ 

For  in  this  world  he  loved  no  man  so, 

And  he  loved  him  as  tendrely  ageyn. 

So  wel  they  loved,  as  olde  bokes  seyn,° 

That  whan  that  oon  was  deed,  soothly  to  telle, 

His  felawe  wente  and  soughte  him  doun  in  helle  — 1200 
But  of  that  story  list  me  nat  to  write.0 
Duk  Perotheus  loved  wel  Arcite, 

E 


50 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


And  hadde  him  knowe  at  Thebes  yeer  by  yere. 

And  finally,  at  requeste  and  preyere 

Of  Perotheus,  withouten  any  raunsoun,  1205 

Duk  Theseus  him  leet  out  of  prisoun 

Frely  to  goon  wher  that  him  liste  over-al, 

In  swich  a gise  as  I you  tellen  shal. 

This  was  the  forward,  pleynly  for  tendite, 

Bitwixen  Theseus  and  him  Arcite:  1210 

That  if  so  were,  that  Arcite  were  y-founde 
Evere  in  his  lyf,  by  day  or  night  or  stounde 
In  any  contree  of  this  Theseus, 

And  he  were  caught,  it  was  acorded  thus, 

That  with  a swerd  he  sholde  lese  his  heed.  1215 

Ther  nas  noon  other  remedye  ne  reed, 

But  taketh  his  leve,  and  horn  ward  he  him  spedde : 

Let  him  be  war,  his  nekke  lith  to  wedde ! 

How  greet  a sorwe  suffreth  now  Arcite! 

The  deeth  he  feleth  thurgh  his  herte  smite ; 1220 

He  wepeth,  weyleth,  cryeth  pitously ; 

To  sleen  himself  he  wayteth  prively.0 
He  seyde,  ‘ Allas  that  day  that  I was  born ! 

Now  is  my  prisoun  worse  than  biforn ; 

Now  is  me  shape0  eternally  to  dwelle  1225 

Nought  in  purgatorie,  but  in  helle. 

Allas  that  ever  knew  I Perotheus  ! 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


51 


For  elles  hadde  I dwelled  with  Theseus 
Y-fetered  in  his  prisoun  everemo. 

Than  hadde  I been  in  blisse,  and  nat  in  wo. 
Only  the  sighte  of  hir  whom  that  I serve, 
Though  that  I never  hir  grace  may  deserve, 
AVolde  han  suffised  right  ynough  for  me. 

0 dere  cosin  Palamon/  quod  he, 

4 Thyn  is  the  victorie  of  this  aventure, 

Ful  blisfully  in  prisoun  maistow  dure ; 

In  prisoun  ? certes  nay,  but  in  paradys  ! 

Wei  hath  Fortune  y-turned  thee  the  dys, 

That  hast  the  sight  of  hir,  and  I thabsence. 
For  possible  is,  sin  thou  hast  hir  presence, 

And  art  a knight,  a worthy  and  an  able, 

That  by  som  cas,  sin  Fortune  is  chaungeable, 
Thou  maist  to  thy  desyr  somtime  atteyne. 

But  I,  that  am  exiled  and  bareyne 
Of  alle  grace  and  in  so  greet  despeir, 

That  ther  nis  erthe,  water,  fyr,  ne  eir, 

Ne  creature,0  that  of  hem  maked  is, 

That  may  me  helpe  or  doon  conf ort  in  this  — 
Wei  oughte  I sterve  in  wanliope  and  distresse; 
Farwel  my  lyf,  my  lust  and  my  gladnesse. 

‘ Allas,  why  pleynen  folk  so  in  commune 
Of  purveyaunce  of  God  or  of  fortune. 


1230 


1235 


1240 


1245 


1250 


52 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


That  yeveth  hem  ful  ofte  in  many  a gise 
Wei  bettre  than  they  can  hemself  devise  ? 
Som  man  desiretli  for  to  han  richesse, 

That  cause  is  of  his  mordre  or  greet  siknesse. 
And  som  man  wolde  out  of  his  prisoun  fayn, 
That  in  his  hous  is  of  his  meynee  slayn. 
Infinite  harmes  been  in  this  matere0; 

We  witen  nat  what  thing  we  prayen  here. 

We  faren  as  he  that  dronke  is  as  a mous°; 

A dronke  man  wot  wel  he  hath  an  hous, 

But  he  noot  which  the  righte  wey  is  thider ; 
And  to  a dronke  man  the  wey  is  slider; 

And  certes  in  this  world  so  faren  we ; 

W e seken  faste  after  felicitee, 

But  we  goon  wrong  ful  often  trewely. 

Thus  may  we  seyen  alle,  and  namely  I, 

That  weende  and  hadde  a greet  opinioun 
That  if  I mighte  escapen  from  prisoun, 

Than  hadde  I been  in  joye  and  perfit  hele, 
Ther  now  I am  exiled  fro  my  wele. 

Sin  that  I may  nat  seen  yow,  Emelye, 

I nam  but  deed ; ther  nis  no  remedye.’ 

Upon  that  other  side  Palamon, 

Whan  that  he  wiste  Arcite  was  agon, 

Swich  sorwe  he  maketh  that  the  grete  tour 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


53 


Resouneth  of  his  youling  and  clamour. 

The  pure  fettres  on  his  shines  grete° 

Weren  of  his  bittre,  salte  teres  wete. 

‘ Allas  ! * quod  he,  ‘ Arcita,  cosin  myn, 

Of  al  our  stryf,  God  woot,  the  fruyt  is  thyn. 
Thow  walkest  now  in  Thebes  at  thy  large,0 
And  of  my  wo  thou  yevest  litel  charge.0 
Thou  mayst,  sin  thou  hast  wisdom  and  manhede, 
Assemblen  alle  the  folk  of  our  kinrede, 

And  make  a werre  so  sharpe0  on  this  citee, 

That  by  som  aventure  or  som  tretee 
Thou  mayst  have  hir  to  lady  and  to  wyf 
For  whom  that  I most  nedes  lese  my  lyf. 

For,  as  by  wey  of  possibilitee, 

Sith  thou  art  at  thy  large,  of  prisoun  free, 

And  art  a lord,  greet  is  thyn  avauntage, 

More  than  is  myn,  that  sterve  here  in  a cage. 

For  I mot  wepe  and  wayle,  whyl  I live, 

With  al  the  wo  that  prisoun  may  me  yive, 

And  eek  with  peyne  that  love  me  yiveth  also, 
That  doubleth  al  my  torment  and  my  wo.’ 
Therwith  the  fyr  of  jalousye  up-sterte 
Withinne  his  brest  and  hente  him  by  the  herte 
So  woodly  that  he  lyk  was  to  biholde0 
The  box-tree,  or  the  ashen  dede  and  colde. 


1280 


1285 


1290 


1295 


1 3°° 


54 


THE  KNIGHT’S  TALE 


Than  seyde  he,  ‘ 0 cruel  goddes,  that  govern© 
This  world  with  binding  of  your  word  eterne, 
And  writen  in  the  table  of  athamaunt 
Your  parlement  and  your  eterne  graunt, 

What  is  mankinde  more  unto  yow  holde° 

Than  is  the  sheep  that  rouketh  in  the  foide  ? 

For  slayn  is  man  right  as  another  beest, 

And  dwelleth  eek  in  prisoun  and  arreest, 

And  hath  siknesse  and  greet  adversitee, 

And  ofte  times  giltelees,  pardee. 

‘ What  governaunce  is  in  this  prescience, 

That  giltelees  tormenteth  innocence  ? 

And  yet  encresetli  this  al  my  penaunce, 

That  man  is  bounden  to  his  observaunce 
For  Goddes  sake  to  letten  of  his  wille° 

Ther  as  a beest  may  al  his  lust  fulfille. 

And  whan  a beest  is  deed  he  hath  no  peyne; 

But  man  after  his  deeth  moot  wepe  and  pleyne, 
Though  in  this  world  he  have  care  and  wo  — 
Withouten  doute  it  may  stonden  so. 

The  answere  of  this  I lete  to  divinis, 

But  wel  I woot  that  in  this  world  gret  pine  is. 
Allas,  I se  a serpent  or  a theef, 

That  many  a trewe  man  hath  doon  mescheef, 
Goon  at  his  large,  and  wher  him  list  may  turne  $ 


1305 


1310 


l3I5 


1320 


*3*5 


THE  KNIGHT7 S TALE 


55 


But  I moot  been  in  prison  thurgh  Saturne, 
And  eek  thurgh  Juno,  jalous  and  eek  wood, 
That  hath  destroyed  wel  ny  al  the  blood 
Of  Thebes,  with  his  waste  walles  wide. 

And  Venus  sleeth  me  on  that  other  side 
For  jalousye  and  fere  of  him  Arcite.’ 

Now  wol  I stinte  of  Palamon  a lite 
And  lete  him  in  his  prison  stille  dwelle, 
And  of  Arcita  forth  I wol  yow  telle. 

The  somer  passeth,  and  the  nightes  longe 
Encresen  double  wise  the  peynes  stronge 
Bothe  of  the  lovere  and  the  prisoner. 

I noot  which  hath  the  wofuller  mester. 

For  shortly  for  to  seyn,  this  Palamoun 
Perpetuelly  is  dampned  to  prisoun 
In  eheynes  and  in  fettres  to  been  deed0 ; 
And  Arcite  is  exiled  upon  his  heed° 

For  everemo  as  out  of  that  contree, 

Ne  neveremo  he  shal  his  lady  see. 

v ow  loveres  axe  I now  this  questioun, 
Who  hath  the  worse,  Arcite  or  Palamoun  ? 
That  oon  may  seen  his  lady  day  by  day, 
But  in  prisoun  moot  he  dwelle  alway ; 

That  other  wher  him  list  may  ride  or  go, 
But  seen  his  lady  shal  he  neveremo. 


1330 


1335 


1340 


1345 


1350 


56 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


Now  demeth  as  yow  liste,  ye  that  can, 

For  I wol  telle  forth  as  I bigan. 

Explicit  prima  pars.  Sequitur  pars  secunda. 

Whan  that  Arcite  to  Thebes  comem  was, 

Ful  ofte  a day  he  swelte  and  seyde  ‘ Allas/ 

For  seen  his  lady  shal  he  neveremo. 

And  shortly  to  concluden  al  his  wo, 

So  muche  sorwe  hadde  never  creature 
That  is,  or  shal,  whyl  that  the  world  may  dure. 
His  sleep,  his  mete,  his  drinke  is  him  biraft, 
That  lene  he  wex  and  drye  as  is  a shaft. 

His  eyen  holwe  and  grisly  to  biholde, 

His  hewe  falwe  and  pale  as  ashen  colde, 

And  solitarie  he  was,  and  evere  allone, 

And  wailling  al  the  night,  making  his  mone. 
And  if  he  herde  song  or  instrument, 

Than  wolde  he  wepe,  he  mighte  nat  be  stent. 
So  feble  eek  were  his  spirits  and  so  lowe, 

And  chaunged  so,  that  no  man  coude  knowe 
His  speche  nor  his  voys,  though  men  it  herde. 
And  in  his  gere,  for  al  the  world  he  ferde 
Nat  only  lyk  the  loveres  maladye 
Of  Hereos,  but  rather  lyk  manye° 

Engendred  of  humour  malencolik, 


135s 


1360 


1365 


1370 


1375 


THE  KNIGHT’S  TALE 


57 


Biforen  in  his  celle  fantastik. 

And,  shortly,  turned  was  al  up-so-doun 
Bothe  habit  and  eek  disposicioun 
Of  him,  this  woful  lover e,  daun  Arcite. 

What  sholde  I alday  of  his  wo  endite  ? 1380 

Whan  he  endured  hadde  a yeer  or  two 
This  cruel  torment  and  this  peyne  and  wo, 

At  Thebes,  in  his  contree,  as  I seyde, 

Upon  a night,  in  sleep  as  he  him  leyde, 

Him  thoughte0  how  that  the  winged  god  Mercurie  1385 
Biforn  him  stood  and  bad  him  to  be  murie. 

His  slepy  yerde  in  hond  he  bar  uprighte ; 

An  hat  he  werede  upon  his  heres  brighte. 

Arrayed  was  this  god  (as  he  took  keep0), 

As  he  was  whan  that  Argus  took  his  sleep0  ; 1390 

And  seyde  him  thus,  ‘ To  Atthenes  shaltow  wende, 
Ther  is  thee  shapen  of  thy  wo  an  ende.? 

And  with  that  word  Arcite  wook  and  sterte. 

6 How  trewely,  how  sore  that  me  smerte,’ 

Quod  he,  ‘ to  Atthenes  right  now  wol  I fare ; 1395 

He  for  the  drede  of  deeth  shal  I nat  spare 
To  see  my  lady  that  I love  and  serve ; 

In  hir  presence  I recche  nat  to  sterve.’ 

And  with  that  word  he  caughte  a greet  mirour, 

And  saugh  that  chaunged  was  al  his  colour,  1400 


58 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


And  saugh  his  visage  al  in  another  kinde. 

And  right  anon  it  ran  him  in  his  minde,° 

That,  sith  his  face  was  so  disfigured 
Of  maladye  the  which  he  hadde  endured, 

He  miglite  wel,  if  that  he  bar  him  lowe, 

Live  in  Atthenes  everemore  unknowe, 

And  seen  his  lady  wel  ny  day  by  day. 

And  right  anon  he  cliaungede  his  array, 

And  cladde  him  as  a povre  laborer, 

And  al  allone,  save  oonly  a squyer, 

That  knew  his  privetee  and  al  his  cas, 

Which  was  disgised  povrely,  as  he  was, 

To  Atthenes  is  he  goon  the  nexte  way. 

And  to  the  court  he  wente  upon  a day, 

And  at  the  gate  he*profreth  his  servise 
To  drugge  and  drawe,  what  so  men  wol  devise.0 
And  shortly  of  this  matere  for  to  seyn, 

He  fil  in  office  with  a chamberleyn, 

The  which  that0  dwellinge  was  with  Ernelye ; 
For  he  was  wys  end  coude  sone  aspye° 

Of  every  servaunt  which  that  serveth  here. 

Wel  coude  he  he  wen  wode,  and  water  bere, 

For  he  was  yong  and  mighty  for  the  nones, 
And  therto  he  was  strong  and  big  of  bones 
To  doon  that  any  wight  can  him  devise. 


*4°5 


1410 


1415 


1420 


1425 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


59 


A yeer  or  two  he  was  in  this  servise, 

Page  of  the  chambre  of  Emelye  the  brighte ; 
And  Philostrate  he  seyde  that  he  highte. 

But  half  so  wel  biloved  a man  as  he 
Ne  was  ther  nevere  in  court,  of  his  degree ; 

He  was  so  gentil  of  condicioun,0 
That  thurghout  al  the  court  was  his  renoun. 
They  seyden  that  it  were  a charitee 
That  Theseus  wolde  enhauncen  his  degree, 

And  putten  him  in  worshipful  servise, 

Ther  as  he  mighte  his  vertu  excercise. 

And  thus  withinne  a while  his  name  is  spronge 
Bothe  of  his  dedes  and  his  gode  tonge 
That  Theseus  hath  taken  him  so  neer 
That  of  his  chambre  he  made  him  a squyer, 
And  yaf  him  gold  to  mayntene  his  degree. 

And  eek  men  broughte  him  out  of  his  contree 
From  yeer  to  yeer  ful  prively  his  rente  ; 

But  honestly  and  slily  he  it  spente, 

That  no  man  wondred  how  that  he  it  hadde. 
And  thre  yeer  in  this  wise  his  lyf  he  ladde, 

And  bar  him  so  in  pees  and  eek  in  werre, 

Ther  nas  no  man  that  Theseus  hath  derre.° 

And  in  this  blisse  lete  I now  Arcite 
And  speke  I wol  of  Palamon  a lite. 


143° 


1435 


1440 


1445 


145° 


60 


THE  KNIGHT’S  TALE 


In  derknesse  and  horrible  and  strong  prisoun 
This  seven  yeer  hath  seten  Palamoun 
Forpined  what°  for  wo  and  for  distresse. 

Who  feleth  double  soor  and  hevinesse 

But  Palamon,  that  love  destreyneth  so  1455 

That  wood  out  of  his  wit  he  goth  for  wo ! 

And  eek  therto  he  is  a prisoner 
Perpetuelly,  nought  only  for  a yeer. 

Who  coude  rime  in  English  proprely 

His  martirdom?  for  sotlie  it  am  nat  I0,;  1460 

Therefore  I passe  as  lightly  as  I may. 

It  fel  that  in  the  seventhe  yeer,  in  May, 

The  thridde  night  (as  olde  bokes  seyn, 

That  al  this  storie  tellen  more  pleyn) 

Were  it  by  aventure  or  destinee,  — 1465 

As,  whan  a thing  is  shapen,  it  shal  be,°  — 

That  sone  after  the  midnight  Palamoun 
By  helping  of  a freend  brak  his  prisoun, 

And  fleeth  the  citee  faste  as  he  may  go ; 

For  he  had  yeve  his  gayler  drinke  so  1470 

Of  a clarree,  maad  of  a certeyn  wyn, 

With  nercotikes  and  opie  of  Thebes  fyn, 

That  al  that  night,  though  that  men  wolde  him  shake, 
The  gayler  sleep,  he  mighte  nat  awake; 

And  thus  he  fleeth  as  faste  as  ever  he  may.  1475 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


61 


The  night  was  short  and  faste  by  the  day, 

That  nedes-cost  he  moste  himselven  hide, 

And  til  a grove  faste  ther  biside 

With  dredful  foot  than  stalketh  Palamoun. 

For  shortly,  this  was  his  opinioun,  1480 

That  in  that  grove  he  wolde  him  hide  al  day, 

And  in  the  night  than  wolde  he  take  his  way 
To  Thebes-ward,  his  freendes  for  to  preye 
On  Theseus  to  lielpe  him  to  werreye ; 

And  shortly,  outher  he  wolde  lese  his  lyf,  1485 

Or  winnen  Emelye  unto  his  wyf ; 

This  is  theffeet  and  his  entente  pleyn. 

Now  wol  I turne  unto  Arcite  ageyn, 

That  litel  wiste  how  ny  that0  was  his  care, 

Til  that  fortune  had  brought  him  in  the  snare.0  1490 
The  bisy  larke,  messager  of  day,° 

Salueth  in  hir  song  the  morwe  gray ; 

And  firy  Phebus  riseth  up  so  brighte 

That  al  the  orient  laugheth  of  the  lighte,0 

And  with  his  stremes0  dryeth  in  the  greves  1495 

The  silver  dropes  hanging  on  the  leves. 

And  Arcita,  that  is  in  the  court  royal 
With  Theseus,  his  squyer  principal, 

Is  risen  and  loketh  on  the  merie  day. 

And,  for  to  doon  his  observaunce  to  May,  1500 


62 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


Remembringe  on  the  poynt  of  his  desyr,° 

He  on  a courser,  startlinge  as  the  fyr, 

Is  riden  into  the  feeldes  him  to  pleye, 

Out  of  the  court,  were0  it  a mile  or  tweye ; 

And  to  the  grove  of  which  that  I yow  tolde  1505 

By  aventure  his  wey  he  gan  to  holde, 

To  maken  him  a gerland  of  the  greves, 

Were  it  of  wodebinde  or  liawethorn  leves; 

And  loude  he  song  ageyn  the  sonne  shene° : 

‘ May,  with  alle  thy  floures  and  thy  grene  1510 

Welcome  be  thou,  faire  freshe  May, 

I hope  that  I som  grene  gete  may.5 
And  from  his  courser  with  a lusty  herte 
Into  the  grove  ful  hastily  he  sterte, 

And  in  a path  he  rometh  up  and  doun,  1515 

Ther  as  by  aventure  this  Palamoun 

Was  in  a bush,  that  no  man  mighte  him  see, 

For  sore  afered  of  his  deeth  was  he. 

Nothing  ne  knew  he  that  it  was  Arcite ; 

God  wot  he  wolde  have  trowed  it  ful  lite.  1520 

But  sooth  is  seyd,  gon  sithen  many  yeres,° 

That  feeld  hath  eyen  and  the  wode  hath  eres.° 

It  is  ful  fair  a man  to  bere  him  evene, 

For  alday  meteth  men  at  unset  stevene.0 
Ful  litel  wot  Arcite  of  his  felawe, 


1525 


THE  KNIGHT’S  TALE 


63 


That  was  so  ny  to  herknen  al  his  sawe, 

For  in  the  bush  he  sitteth  now  ful  stille. 

Whan  that  Arcite  hadde  romed  al  his  fille, 
And  songen  al  the  roundel  lustily, 

Into  a studie  he  fil  sodeynly, 

As  doon  thise  lo veres  in  hir  queynte  geres, 
Now  in  the  croppe,  now  doun  in  the  breres, 
Now  up,  now  doun,  as  boket  in  a welle. 

Eight  as  the  Friday,0  soothly  for  to  telle, 
Now  it  shineth,  now  it  reyneth  faste, — 
Eight  so  can  gery  Venus  overcaste 
The  hertes  of  hir  folk ; right  as  hir  day 
Is  gerful,  right  so  chaungeth  she  array. 

‘Selde  is  the  Friday  al  the  wike  ylike.* 

Whan  that  Arcite  had  songe,  he  gan  to  sike, 
And  sette  him  doun  withouten  any  more : 
c Allas/  quod  he,  ‘ that  day  that  I was  bore ! 
How  longe,  Juno,  thurgh  thy  crueltee, 
Woltow  werreyen  Thebes  the  citee  ? 

Allas,  y-brought  is  to  confusioun 
The  blood  royal  of  Cadme  and  Amphioun,  — 
Of  Cadmus,  which  that  was  the  firste  man 
That  Thebes  bulte,  or  first  the  toun  bigan, 
And  of  the  citee  first  was  crouned  king. 

Of  his  linage  am  I and  his  ofspring 


NS- 


*535 


1540 


1545 


1550 


64 


THE  KNIGHT’S  TALE 


By  verray  ligne  as  of  the  stok  royal ; 

And  now  I am  So  caitif  and  so  thral, 

That  he  that  is  my  mortal  enemy, 

I serve  him  as  his  squyer  povrely. 

And  yet  doth  Juno  me  wel  more  shame,  1555 

For  I dar  nought  biknowe  myn  owene  name, 

But  ther  as  I was  wont  to  highte  Arcite, 

Now  highte  I Philostrate,  nought  worth  a mite. 

Allas,  thou  felle  Mars  ! alias,  J uno  ! 

Thus  hath  your  ire  our  kinrede  al  fordo  1560 

Save  only  me  and  wrecched  Palamoun, 

That  Theseus  martireth  in  prisoun. 

And  over  al  this,  to  sleen  me  outrely, 

Love  hath  his  firy  dart  so  brenningly 
Y-stiked  thurgh  my  trewe,  careful  herte,  1565 

That  shapen  was  my  deeth  erst  than  my  sherte.0 
Ye  sleen  me  with  your  eyen,  Emelye ! 

Ye  been  the  cause  wherfor  that  I dye  ! 

Of  al  the  remenant  of  myn  other  care 

Ne  sette  I nat  the  mountaunce  of  a tare,  1570 

So  that  I coude  doon  aught  to  your  plesaunce.’ 

And  with  that  word  he  fil  doun  in  a traunce 
A longe  time ; and  afterward  he  upsterte. 

This  Palamoun,  that  thoughte  that  thurgh  his  herte 
He  felte  a cold  swerd  sodeynliche  glide,  1575 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


65 


For  ire  he  quook,  no  lenger  wolde  he  bide. 

And  whan  that  he  had  herd  Arcites  tale, 

As  he  were  wood,  with  face  deed  and  pale, 

He  sterte  him  up  out  of  the  buskes  thikke, 

And  seyde,  ‘ Arcite,  false  traitour  wikke, 

Now  artow  hent,  that  lovest  my  lady  so 
For  whom  that  I have  al  this  peyne  and  wo ; 
And  art  my  blood,  and  to  my  counseil  sworn, 

As  I ful  ofte  have  told  thee  heer-biforn ; 

And  hast  bi-japed  heer  duk  Theseus, 

And  falsly  chaunged  hast  thy  name  thus ; — 

I wol  be  deed,  or  elles  thou  shalt  dye. 

Thou  shalt  nat  love  my  lady  Emelye, 

But  I wol  love  hir  only  and  namo° ; 

For  I am  Palamoun,  thy  mortal  fo. 

And  though  that  I no  wepne  have  in  this  place, 
But  out  of  prisoun  am  astert  by  grace, 

I drede  nought  that  outher  thou  shalt  dye, 

Or  thou  ne  shalt  nat  loven  Emelye. 

Chees  which  thou  wolt,  or  thou  shalt  nat  asterte.? 

This  Arcite,  with  ful  despitous  herte, 

Whan  he  him  knew  and  hadde  his  tale  herd, 

As  fiers  as  leoun,  pulled  out  a swerd, 

And  seyde  thus,  ‘ By  God  that  sit  above, 

Nere  it  that  thou  art  syk  and  wood  for  love, 

F 


1580 


1585 


1590 


1595 


1600 


66 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


And  eek  that  thou  no  wepne  hast  in  this  place, 

Thou  sholdest  nevere  out  of  this  grove  pace, 

That  thou  ne  sholdest  dyen  of  myn  hond.° 

For  I defye  the  seuretee  and  the  bond 

Which  that  thou  seyst  that  I have  maad  to  thee.  1605 

What,  verray  fool,  think  wel  that  love  is  free ! 

And  I wol  love  hir  maugre  al  thy  might. 

But,  for  as  muche  as  thou  art  a worthy  knight 
And  wilnest  to  darreyne  hir  by  bataille, 

Have  heer  my  trouthe,  tomorwe  I wol  nat  faille,  1610 
Withouten  witing  of  any  other  wight, 

That  heer  I wol  be  founden  as  a knight, 

And  bringen  harneys  right  ynough  for  thee; 

And  chees°  the  beste  and  leve  the  worste  for  me. 

And  mete  and  drinke  this  night  wol  I bringe  1615 
Ynough  for  thee,  and  clothes  for  thy  beddinge. 

And,  if  so  be  that  thou  my  lady  winne 
And  sle  me  in  this  wode  ther  I am  inne, 

Thou  mayst  wel  have  thy  lady  as  for  me.’ 

This  Palamon  answerde,  ‘ I graunte  it  thee.’  1620 
And  thus  they  been  departed  til  amorwe, 

When  ech  of  hem  had  leyd  his  feith  to  borwe.° 

0 Cupide,  out  of  alle  charitee0 ! 

0 regne  that  wolt  no  felawe  have  with  thee ! 

Ful  sooth  is  seyd°  that  love  ne  lordshipe 


1625 


THE  KNIGHT’S  TALE 


67 


Wol  nought,  his  thankes,0  have  no  felaweshipe; 

Wei  finden  that  Arcite  and  Palamoun ! 

Arcite  is  riden  anon  unto  the  toun, 

And  on  the  morwe,  er  it  were  dayes  light, 

Ful  prively  two  harneys  hath  he  dight,  1630 

Bothe  suffisaunt  and  mete  to  darreyne 

The  bataille  in  the  feeld  bitwix  hem  tweyne. 

And  on  his  hors,  allone  as  he  was  born, 

He  carieth  al  this  harneys  him  biforn ; 

And  in  the  grove  at  time  and  place  y-set  1635 

This  Arcite  and  this  Palamon  ben  met. 

Tho  chaungen  gan  the  colour  in  hir  face ; 

Right  as  the  hunters  in  the  regne  of  Trace, 

That  stondeth  at  the  gappe  with  a spere, 

Whan  hunted  is  the  leoun  or  the  bere,  1640 

And  hereth  him  come  rushing  in  the  greves, 

And  breketh0  bothe  bowes  and  the  leves, 

And  thinketh,0  ‘ heer  cometh  my  mortel  enemy, 
Withoute  faile  he  moot  be  deed  or  I ; 

For  outher  I moot  sleen  him  at  the  gappe,  1645 

Or  he  moot  sleen  me,  if  that  me  mishappe.? 

So  ferden  they  in  chaunging  of  hir  hewe, 

As  fer  as  everich  of  hem  other  knewe.° 

Ther  nas  no  ‘ Good  day/  ne  no  saluing  ; 

But  streight  withouten  word  or  rehersing,^  1650 


68 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


Evericli  of  hem  heelp  for  to  armen  other, 

As  frendly  as  he  were  his  owene  brother ; 

And  after  that  with  sharpe  speres  stronge 
They  foynen  ech  at  other  wonder  longe. 

Thou  mightest  wene  that  this  Palamoun  1655 

In  his  fighting  were  a wood  leoun, 

And  as  a cruel  tigre  was  Arcite. 

As  wilde  bores  gonne  they  to  smite, 

That  frothen  white  as  foom  for  ire  wood. 

Up  to  the  ancle  foughte  they  in  hir  blood.0  1660 

And  in  this  wise  I lete  hem  fighting  dwelle ; 

And  forth  I wol  of  Theseus  yow  telle. 

The  Destinee,  Ministre  General, 

That  executeth  in  the  world  over-al 
The  purveyaunce  that  God  hath  seyn  biforn,0  1665 
So  strong  it  is  that,  though  the  world  had  sworn 
The  contrarie  of  a thing  by  ye  or  nay, 

Yet  somtime  it  shal  fallen  on  a day 

That  falleth  nat  eft  withinne  a thousand  yere. 

For  certeynly  oure  appetites  here,  1670 

Be  it  of  werre  or  pees  or  hate  or  love,  — 

A1  is  this  reuled  by  the  sighte  above. 

This  mene  I now  by  mighty  Theseus,0 
That  for  to  honten  is  so  desirous, 

And  namely  at  the  grete  hert  in  May,  1675 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


69 


That  in  his  bed  ther  daweth  him  no  day, 

That  he  nis  clad,  and  redy  for  to  ride 

With  hunte  and  horn,  and  houndes  him  biside. 

For  in  his  hunting  hath  he  swich  delyt, 

That  it  is  al  his  joye  and  appetyt 
To  been  himself  the  grete  hertes  bane ; 

For  after  Mars  he  serveth  now  Diane. 

Cleer  was  the  day,  as  I have  told  er  this, 

And  Theseus,  with  alle  joye  and  blis, 

With  his  Ipolita,  the  faire  quene, 

And  Emelye,  clothed  al  in  grene, 

On  hunting  be  they  riden  royally. 

And  to  the  grove,  that  stood  ful  faste  by, 

In  which  ther  was  an  hert,  as  men  him  tolde, 
Duk  Theseus  the  streighte  wey  hath  holde. 

And  to  the  launde  he  rideth  him  ful  right, 

For  tliider  was  the  hert  wont  have  his  flight, 
And  over  a brook,  and  so  forth  on  his  w eye. 

This  duk  wol  han  a cours  at  him  or  tweye 
With  houndes  swiche  as  that  him  list  comaunde. 

And  whan  this  duk  was  come  unto  the  launde, 
Under  the  sonne°  he  loketh,  and  anon 
He  was  war  of  Arcite  and  Palamon, 

That  foughten  breme,  as  it  were  bores  two. 

The  brighte  swerdes  wenten  to  and  fro 


1680 


1685 


1690 


1695 


1700 


70 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


So  hidously,  that  with  the  leeste  strook 
It  semed  as  it  wolde  felle  an  ook ; 

But  what  they  were,  nothing  he  ne  woot. 

This  duk  his  courser  with  his  spores  smoot, 

And  at  a stert  he  was  bitwix  hem  two,  1705 

And  pulled  out  a swerd  and  cride,  ‘ Ho ! 

Hamore,  up  peyne°  of  lesing  of  your  heed ! 

By  mighty  Mars,  he  shal  anon  be  deed 
That  smiteth  any  strook  that  I may  seen ! 

But  telleth  me  what  mister  men  ye  been,  1710 

That  been  so  hardy  for  to  fighten  here 
Withouten  juge  or  other  officere, 

As  it  were  in  a listes0  royally  ? J 

This  Palamon  answerde  hastily, 

And  seyde,  ‘ Sire,  what  nedeth  wordes  mo°  ? 1715 

We  have  the  deeth  deserved  bothe  two. 

Two  woful  wrecches  been  we,  two  caytives, 

That  been  encombred  of  our  owene  lives ; 

And  as  thou  art  a rightful  lord  and  juge, 

He  yeve  us  neither  mercy  ne  refuge,  ^720 

But  sle  me  first  for  seynte  charitee, 

But  sle  my  felawe  eek  as  wel  as  me ; 

Or  sle  him  first ; for,  though  thou  knowest  it  lite. 

This  is  thy  mortal  fo,  this  is  Arcite, 

That  fro  thy  lond  is  banished  on  his  heed,  1725 


p 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


71 


For  which  he  hath  deserved  to  be  deed. 

For  this  is  he  that  cam  unto  thy  gate 
And  seyde  that  he  highte  Philostrate. 

Thus  hath  he  japed  thee  ful  many  a yeer, 
And  thou  has  maked  him  thy  chief  squyer ; 
And  this  is  he  that  loveth  Emelye. 

For  sith  the  day  is  come  that  I shal  dye, 

I make  pleynly  my  confessioun, 

That  I am  thilke  woful  Palamoun, 

That  hath  thy  prisoun  broken  wikkedly. 

I am  thy  mortal  foo,  and  it  am  1° 

That  loveth  so  hote  Emelya  the  brighte, 

That  I wol  dye  present  in  hir  sighte. 

Therfore  I axe  deeth  and  my  juwise ; 

But  sle  my  felawe  in  the  same  wise, 

For  bothe  han  we  deserved  to  be  slayn.? 

This  worthy  duk  answerde  anon  agayn, 
And  seide,  ‘This  is  a short  conclusioun: 
Youre  owene  mouth  by  your  confessioun 
Hath  dampned  you,  and  I wol  it  recorde, 

It  nedeth  nought  to  pine  yow  with  the  corde ; 
Ye  shul  be  deed,  by  mighty  Mars  the  redeP 
The  quene  anon,  for  verray  wommanhede 
Gan  for  to  wepe,  and  so  dide  Emelye, 

And  alle  the  ladies  in  the  compaignye. 


1730 


1735 


1740 


1745 


1750 


72 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


Gret  pitee  was  it,  as  it  thoughte  hem  alle, 

That  evere  swich  a chaunce  sholde  falle ; 

For  gentil  men  they  were  of  greet  estat, 

And  nothing  but  for  love  was  this  debat. 

And  sawe°  hir  blody  woundes  wide  and  sore ; 1755 

And  alle  criden  bothe  lasse  and  more, 

‘ Have  mercy,  Lord,  upon  us  wommen  alle  ! ? 

And  on  hir  bare  knees  adoun  they  falle, 

And  wolde  have  kist  his  feet  ther  as  he  stood, 

Til  at  the  laste  aslaked  was  his  mood ; 1760 

For  pitee  renneth  sone  in  gentil  herte.° 

And  though  he  hrste  for  ire  quook  and  sterte, 

He  hath  considered  shortly  in  a clause 
The  trespas  of  hem  bothe,  and  eek  the  cause. 

And  although  that  his  ire  hir  gilt  accused,  1765 

Yet  in  his  resoun  he  hem  bothe  excused; 

And  thus  he  thoughte  wel  that  every  man 
Wol  helpe  himself  in  love,  if  that  he  can, 

And  eek  delivere  himself  out  of  prisoun ; 

And  eek  his  herte  hadde  compassioun  1770 

Of  wommen,  for  they  wepen  evere  in  oon ; 

And  in  his  gentil  herte  he  thoughte  anoon, 

And  softe  unto  himself  he  seyde,  4 Fy 
Upon  a lord  that  wol  have  no  mercy, 

But  been  a leoun,  bothe  in  word  and  dede, 


1775 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


73 


To  hem  that  been  in  repentaunce  and  drede, 

As  wel  as  to  a proud  despitous  man 
That  wol  maynteyne  that  he  first  bigan ! 

That  lord  hath  litel  of'discrecioun, 

That  in  swich  cas  can°  no  divisioun,  1780 

But  weyeth  pride  and  humblesse  after  con.0’ 

And  shortly,  whan  his  ire  is  thus  agoon, 

He  gan  to  loken  up  with  eyen  lighte, 

And  spak  thise  same  wordes  al  on  highte : 

‘ The  god  of  love,  A ! benedicite0 ! *785 

How  mighty  and  how  greet  a lord  is  he ! 

Ayeyns  his  might  ther  gayneth  none  obstacles, 

He  may  be  cleped  a god  for  his  miracles ; 

For  he  can  rnaken  at  his  owene  gise 

Of  everich  herte,  as  that  him  list  devise.  1790 

Lo  heer  this  Arcite  and  this  Palamoun, 

That  quitly  weren  out  of  my  prisoun, 

And  mighte  han  lived  in  Thebes  royally, 

And  witen  I am  hir  mortal  enemy, 

And  that  hir  deeth  lith  in  my  might  also;  1795 

And  yet  hath  love,  maugree  hir  eyen  two, 

Y-brought  hem  hider  bothe  for  to  dye ! 

Now  loketh,  is  nat  that  an  heigh  folye? 

“ Who  may  been  a fool,  but  if  he  love  ? 0 99 

Bihold,  for  Goddes  sake  that  sit  above,  1800 


74 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


Se  how  they  blede ! be  they  nought  wel  arrayed  ? 
Thus  hath  hir  lord;  the  god  of  love,  y-payed 
Hir  wages  and  hir  fees  for  hir  servise  ! 

And  yet  they  wenen  for  to  been  ful  wise 

That  serven  love,  for  aught  that  may  bifalle  ! 1805 

But  this  is  yet  the  beste  game  of  alle, 

That  she,  for  whom  they  han  this  jolitee, 

Can  hem  therfor  as  muche  thank  as  me° ; 

She  woot  namore  of  al  this  hote  fare, 

By  God,  than  woot  a cokkow  or  an  hare ! 1810 

“ But  al  moot  been  assayed,  hoot  and  cold ; 

A man  moot  been  a fool,  or  yong  or  old ; ” 

I woot  it  by  myself  ful  yore  agoon ; 

For  in  my  time  a servant  was  I oon.° 

And  therfor,  sin  I knowe  of  loves  peyne,  1815 

And  woot  how  sore  it  can  a man  distreyne, 

As  he  that  hath  ben  caught  ofte  in  his  las, 

I yow  foryeve  al  hoolly  this  trespas, 

At  requeste  of  the  quene,  that  kneleth  here, 

And  eek  of  Emelye,  my  suster  dere.  1820 

And  ye  shul  bothe  anon  unto  me  swere, 

That  neveremo  ye  shul  my  contree  dere, 

Ne  make  werre  upon  me  night  ne  day, 

But  been  my  freendes  in  al  that  ye  may ; 

I yow  foryeve  this  trespas  every  deel.’  1825 


THE  KNIGHT’S  TALE 


75 


And  they  him  swore  his  axing  fayre  and  weel, 

And  him  of  lordshipe  and  of  mercy  preyde ; ° 

And  he  hem  graunteth  grace,  and  thus  he  seyde : 

‘ To  speke  of  ° royal  linage  and  richesse, 

Though  that  she  were  a quene  or  a princesse,  1830 
Ech  of  yow  bothe  is  worthy,  doutelees, 

To  wedden  whan  time  is,  but  nathelees 
(I  speke  as  for  my  suster  Emelye, 

For  whom  ye  have  this  stryf  and  jalousye), 

Ye  woot  yourself  she  may  not  wedden  two  1835 

At  ones,  though  ye  tighten  evermo,  — 

That  oon  of  yow,  al  be  him  looth  or  lief,° 

He  moot  go  pipen  in  an  ivy  leef ; 

This  is  to  seyn,  she  may  nat  now  han  bothe, 

Al  be  ye  never  so  jalous  ne  so  wrothe.  1840 

And  for-thy  I yow  putte  in  this  degree 
That  ech  of  yow  shal  have  his  destinee 
As  him  is  shape ; and  herkneth  in  what  wise, 

Lo  heer  your  ende  of  that  I shal  devise. 

My  wil  is  this,  for  plat  conclusioun  1845 

Withouten  any  replicacioun, — 

If  that  yow  liketh,  tak  it  for  the  beste : 

That  everich  of  yow  shal  goon  wher  him  leste 
Frely,  withouten  raunsoun  or  daunger; 

And  this  day  fifty  wikes,  fer  ne  ner,° 


1850 


76 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


Everich  of  yow  shal  bringe  an  hundred  knightes, 
Armed  for  listes  up  at  alle  rightes,0 
A1  redy  to  darreyne  hir  by  bataille. 

And  this  bihote  I yow  withouten  faille 

Upon  my  trouthe,  and  as  I am  a knight,  1855 

That  whether  of  yow  bothe  that  hath  might, 

This  is  to  seyn,  that  whether  he  or  thou 
May  with  his  hundred,  as  I spak  of  how, 

Sleen  his  contrarie,  or  out  of  listes  drive,  — 

Than  shal  I yeve  Emelya  to  wive  i860 

To  whom  that  fortune  yeveth  so  fair  a grace. 

The  listes  shal  I maken  in  this  place, 

And  God  so  wisly  on  my  soule  rewe, 

As  I shal  even  juge  been  and  trewe. 

Ye  shul  non  other  ende  with  me  maken,  1865 

That  oon  of  yow  ne  shal  be  deed  or  taken. 

And  if  yow  thinketh  this  is  wel  y-sayd, 

Seyth  your  avys  and  holdeth  yow  apayd. 

This  is  your  ende  and  your  conclusioun.’ 

Who  loketh  lightly  now  but  Palamoun  ? 1870 

Who  springeth  up  for  joye  but  Arcite  ? 

Who  couthe  telle,  or  who  couthe  it  endite, 

The  joye  that  is  maked  in  the  place 
Whan  Theseus  hath  doon  so  fair  a grace  ? 

But  doun  on  knees  wente  every  maner  wight,  1875 


THE  KNIGHT’S  TALE 


77 


And  thanked  him  with  al  hir  herte  and  might, 

And  namely  the  Thebans  ofte  sithe. 

And  thus  with  good  hope  and  with  herte  blithe 
They  take  hir  leve,  and  homward  gonne  they  ride 
To  Thebes  with  his  olde  walles  wide.  1880 

Explicit  secunda  pars.  Sequitur  pars  tercia. 

I trowe  men  wolde  deme  it  necligence, 

If  I foryete  to  tellen  the  dispence 
Of  Theseus,  that  goth  so  bisily 
To  maken  up  the  listes  royally ; 

That  swich  a noble  theatre  as  it  was,  1885 

I dar  wel  seyu  that  in  this  world  ther  nas. 

The  circuit  a mile  was  aboute, 

Walled  of  stoon  and  diched  al  withoute. 

Round  was  the  shap  in  manere  of  compas, 

Ful  of  degrees  the  heighte  of  sixty  pas,  1890 

That,  whan  a man  was  set  on  o degree, 

He  letted  nat  his  felawe  for  to  see. 

Estward  ther  stood  a gate  of  marbel  whyt, 
Westward  right  swich  another  in  the  opposyt. 

And  shortly  to  concluden,  swich  a place  1895 

Was  noon  in  ertlie  as  in  so  litel  space; 

For  in  the  lond  ther  nas  no  crafty  man 
That  geometrie  or  ars-metrike  can, 


78 


THE  KNIGHT7 S TALE 


Ne  purtreyour  ne  kerver  of  images, 

That  Theseus  ne  yaf  him  mete  and  wages 
The  theatre  for  to  maken  and  devise. 

And  for  to  doon  his  rite  and  sacrifise, 

He  estward  hath  upon  the  gate  above, 

In  worship  of  Venus,  goddesse  of  love, 

Doon  make0  an  auter  and  an  oratorie ; 

And  westward,  in  the  minde  and  in  memorie 
Of  Mars,  he  maked  hath  right  swich  another, 
That  coste  largely  of  gold  a fother. 

And  northward,  in  a touret  on  the  wal, 

Of  alabastre  whyt  and  reed  coral 
An  oratorie  riche  for  to  see, 

In  worship  of  Diane  of  chastitee, 

Hath  Theseus  don  wrought0  in  noble  wise. 
But  yet  hadde  I foryeten  to  devise 
The  noble  kerving,  and  the  portreytures, 

The  shap,  the  contenaunce,  and  the  figures, 
That  weren  in  thise  oratories  thre. 

First  in  the  temple  of  Venus  maystow  se 
Wrought  on  the  wal,  ful  pitous  to  biholde, 
The  broken  slepes  and  the  sikes  colde°, 

The  sacred  teres  and  the  waymentinge, 

The  firy  strokes  of  the  desiringe, 

That  loves  servaunts  in  this  lyf  enduren ; 


1900 


1905 


1910 


1915 


1920 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


79 


The  othes  that  hir  covenants  assuren ; 

Plesaunce  and  Hope,  Desyr,  Foolhardinesse,0  1925 
Beautee  and  Youthe,  Bauderye,  Bichesse, 

Charmes  and  Force,  Lesinges,  Flaterye, 

Dispense,  Bisinesse,  and  Jalousye, 

That  wered  of  yelwe  goldes  a gerland, 

And  a cokkow  sittinge  on  hir  hand  ; 1930 

Festes,  instruments,  caroles,  daunces, 

Lust  and  array,  and  alle  the  circumstaunces 
Of  love  whiche  that  I rekne  and  rekne  shal, 

By  ordre°  weren  peynted  on  the  wal, 

And  mo  than  I can  make  of  mencioun. 

For  soothly,  al  the  mount  of  Citheroun, 

Ther  Venus  hath  hir  principal  dwellinge, 

Was  shewed  on  the  wal  in  portreyinge, 

With  al  the  gardin  and  the  lustinesse. 

Nat  was  foryeten  the  porter  Ydelnesse, 

Ne  Narcisus  the  faire  of  yore  agon,® 

Ne  yet  the  folie  of  king  Salamon, 

Ne  yet  the  grete  strengthe  of  Ercules, 
Thenchauntements  of  Medea  and  Circes, 

Ne  of  Turnus,  with  the  hardy  hers  corage, 

The  riche  Cresus,  caytif  in  servage. 

Thus  may  ye  seen  that  Wisdom  ne  Bichesse, 

Beautee  ne  Sleighte,  Strengthe  ne  Hardin  esse. 


1935 


1940 


1945 


80 


THE  KNIGHT’S  TALE 


Ne  may  with  Venus  holde  champartye; 

For  as  hir  list  the  world  than  may  she  gye. 

Lo,  alle  thise  folk  go  caught  were  in  hir  las 
Til  they  for  wo  ful  ofte  seyde  ‘ Allas ! 9 
Suffiseth  heer  ensamples  oon  or  two, 

And  though0  I coude  rekne  a thousand  mo. 

*#*#*## 

A citole  in  hir  right  hand  Ladde  she. 

And  on  hir  heed,  ful  semely  for  to  se, 

A rose  gerland,  fresh  and  wel  smellinge0  j 
Above  hir  heed  hir  dowves  flikeringe ; 

Biforn  hir  stood  hir  sone  Cupido, 

Upon  his  shuldres  winges  hadde  he  two; 

And  blind  he  was,  as  it  is  ofte  sene ; 

A bowe  he  bar  and  arwes  brighte  and  kene. 

Why  sholde  I nought  as  wel  eek  telle  yow  al 
The  portreiture  that  was  upon  the  wal 
Within  the  temple  of  mighty  Mars  the  rede? 
Al  peynted  was  the  wal  in  lengthe  and  bred© 
Lyk  to  the  estres  of  the  grisly  place 
That  highte  the  grete  temple  of  Mars  in  Trace, 
In  thilke  colde  frosty  regioun 
Ther  as  Mars  hath  his  sovereyn  mansiouiL 


THE  KNIGHT’S  TALE 


81 


First  on  the  wal  was  peynted  a forest* 

In  which  ther  dwelleth  neither  man  ne  best/ 
With  knotty*  knarry*  bareyne  trees  olde° 

Of  stubbes  sharpe  and  hidouse  to  biholde 
In  which  ther  ran  a rumbel  in  a swough* 

As  though  a storm  sholde  bresten  every  bough. 
And  downward  from  an  hille*  under  a bente* 
Ther  stood  the  temple  of  Mars  armipotente* 
Wrought  al  of  burned  steel*  of  which  the  entree 
Was  long  and  streit,  and  gastly  for  to  see. 

And  ther-out  cam  a rage  and  such  a veze* 

That  it  made  al  the  gate  for  to  rese. 

The  northren  light0  in  at  the  dores  shoon* 

For  windowe  on  the  wal  ne  was  ther  noon 
Thurgh  which  men  mighten  any  light  discerne. 
The  dores  were  alle  of  adamant  eterne* 
Y-clenched  overthwart  and  endelong 
With  iren  tough  ; and*  for  to  make  it  strong* 
Every  piler*  the  temple  to  sustene, 

Was  tonne-greet*  of  iren  bright  and  shene. 

Ther  saugh  I first  the  derke  imagining 
Of  Felonye*  and  al  the  compassing ; 

The  cruel  Ire*°  reed  as  any  glede  ; • 

The  pikepurs*0  and  eek  the  pale  Drede° ; 

G 


*975 


1980 


1985 


*990 


1995 


82 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


The  smiler  with  the  knyf  under  the  cloke ; 

The  shepne  brenninge  with  the  blake  smoke;  2000 
The  tresoun  of  the  mordringe  in  the  bedde ; 

The  Open  Werre  with  woundes  al  bi-bledde  ; 

Contek  with  blody  knyf  and  sharp  manace ; 

Al  ful  of  chirking  was  that  sory  place. 

The  sleere  of  himself  yet  saugh  I ther,°  2005 

His  herte-blood  hath  bathed  al  his  lieer ; 

The  nayl  y-driven  in  the  shode  a-night, 

The  colde  deeth  with  mouth  gaping  upright. 

Amiddes  of  the  temple  sat  Meschaunce, 

With  disconfort  and  sory  contenaunce.  2010 

Yet  saugh  I Woodnesse  laughinge  in  his  rage ; 
Armed  Compleynt,  Outhees,  and  hers  Outrage ; 

The  careyne  in  the  busk  with  throte  y-corve : 

A thousand  slayn  and  nat  of  qualm  y-storve ; 

The  tiraunt  with  the  prey  by  force  y-raft;  2015 

The  toun  destroyed,  ther  was  nothing  laft. 

Yet  saugh  I brent  the  shippes  hoppesteres0 ; 

The  hunte  strangled  with  the  wilde  beres ; 

The  sowe  freten  the  child  right  in  the  cradel ; 

The  cook  y-scalded  for  al  his  longe  ladel.  2020 

Nought  was  foryeten  by  the  infortune  of  Marte°; 

The  carter  over-riden  with  his  carte, 

Under  the  wheel  ful  lowe  he  lay  adoun. 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


Ther  were  also  of  Martes  divisioun 
The  harbour  and  the  bocher  and  the  smith 
That  forgeth  sharpe  swerdes  on  his  stith. 
And  al  above,  depeynted  in  a tour, 

Saw  I Conquest  sittinge  in  greet  honour, 
With  the  sharpe  swerde  over  his  heed° 
Hanging  by  a sotil  twines  threed. 

Depeynted  was  the  slaughtre  of  Julius, 
Of  grete  Nero,  and  of  Antonius ; 

Al  be  that  thilke  time  they  were  unborn 
Yet  was  hir  deeth  depeynted  ther-biforn, 
By  manasinge  of  Mars,°  right  by  figure ; 

So  was  it  shewed  in  that  portreiture 
As  is  depeynted  in  the  sterres  above 
Who  shal  be  slayn  or  elles  deed  for  love. 
Suffiseth  oon  ensample0  in  stories  olde, 

I may  not  rekene  hem  alle  though  I wolde. 

The  statue  of  Mars  upon  a carte  stood, 
Armed,  and  loked  grim  as  he  were  wood ; 
And  overe  his  heed  ther  shinen  two  figures 
Of  sterres,  that  been  cleped  in  scriptures, 
That  oon  Puella,0  that  other  Bubeus.0 
This  god  of  armes  was  arrayed  thus : 

A wolf  ther  stood  biforn  him  at  his  feet 
With  eyen  rede,  and  of  a man  he  eet ; 


84 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


With  sotil  pencel  clepeynted  was  this  storie, 

In  redou tinge  of  Mars  and  of  his  glorie.  2050 

Now  to  the  temple  of  Diane  the  chaste 
As  shortly  as  I can  I wol  me  haste, 

To  telle  yow  al  the  descripcioun. 

Depeynted  been  the  walles  up  and  doun 

Of  hunting  and  of  shamfast  chastitee.  2055 

Ther  saugh  I how  woful  Calistopee, 

Whan  that  Diane  agreved  was  with  here, 

Was  turned  from  a womman  to  a here, 

And  after  was  she  maad  the  lode-sterre° ; 

Thus  was  it  peynted,  I can  say  yow  no  ferre.  2060 
Hir  sone  is  eek  a sterre,  as  men  may  se. 

Ther  saugh  I Dane,  y-turned  til  a tree,  — 

I mene  nat  the  goddesse  Diane, 

But  Penneus  doughter  which  that  highte  Dane. 

Ther  saugh  I Attheon  an  hert  y-maked,  2065 

For  vengeaunce  that  he  saugh  Diane  al  naked; 

I saugh  how  that  his  houndes  have  him  caught 
And  freten  him,  for  that  they  knewe  him  naught. 

Yet  peynted  was  a litel  forther-moor, 

How  Atthalante  h tinted  the  wilde  boor,  2070 

And  Meleagre,  and  many  another  mo, 

For  which  Diane  wroughte  him  care  and  wo. 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


85 


Ther  saugh  I many  another  wonder  storie^ 

The  whiche  me  list  nat  drawen  to  memorie. 

This  goddesse  on  an  hert  ful  hye  seet, 

With  smale  houndes  al  aboute  hir  feet ; 

And  undernethe  hir  feet  she  hadde  a mone> 
Wexing  it  was,  and  sholde  wanie  sone. 

In  gaude  grene  hir  statue  clothed  was, 

With  bowe  in  honde  and  arwes  in  a cas. 

Hir  eyen  caste  she  ful  lowe  adoun, 

Ther  Pluto  hath  his  derke  regioun. 

Wei  couthe  he  peynten  lyfly  that  it  wroughte, 
With  many  a florin  he  the  hewes  boughte. 

Now  been  thise  listes  maad,  and  Theseus, 

That  at  his  grete  cost  arrayed  thus 
The  temples  and  the  theatre  every  del, 

Whan  it  was  doon,  him  liked  wonder  wel. 

But  stinte  I wol  of  Theseus  a lite, 

And  speke  of  Palamon  and  of  Arcite. 

The  day  approcheth  of  hir  retourninge, 

That  everich  sholde  an  hundred  knightes  bringe, 
The  bataille  to  darreyne,  as  I yow  tolde ; 

And  til  Atthenes,  hir  covenant  for  to  holde, 


2075 


2080 


2090 


2095 


86 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


Hath  everich  of  hem  brought  an  hundred  knightes 
Wei  armed  for  the  werre  at  alle  rightes.  2100 

And  sikerly  ther  trowed  many  a man 
That  never,  sithen  that  the  world  bigan, 

As  for  to  speke  of  knighthod,  of  hir  hond,° 

As  fer  as  God  hath  maked  see  or  lond, 

Nas,  of  so  fewe,  so  noble  a compaignye.  2105 

For  every  wight  that  loved  chivalrye, 

And  wolde,  his  thankes,  han  a passant  name, 

Hath  preyed  that  he  mighte  ben  of  that  game; 

And  wel  was  him,  that  therto  chosen  was. 

For  if  ther  fille  tomorwe  swich  a cas,  2110 

Ye  knowen  wel  that  every  lusty  knight 
That  loveth  paramours  and  hath  his  might, 

Were  it  in  Engelond  or  elles where, 

They  wolde,  hir  tliankes,  wilnen  to  be  there. 

To  fighte  for  a lady,  — ben'dic'te  ! 2115 

It  were  a lusty  sighte  for  to  see ! 

And  right  so  ferden  they  with  Palamon ; 

With  him  ther  wenten  knightes  many  oon. 

Som  wol  ben  armed  in  an  habergeoun, 

And  in  a brest-plate  and  in  a light  gipoun ; 212 0 

And  somine  woln  have  a peyre  plates  large; 

And  somme  woln  have  a Pruce  sheld  or  a targe ; 
Somme  woln  been  armed  on  hir  legges  weel, 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


87 


And  have  an  ax  and  somme  a mace  of  steel. 
Ther  nis  no  newe  gise  that  it  nas  old.° 

Armed  were  they,  as  I have  you  told, 

Everich  after  his  opinioun. 

Ther  maistow  seen  cominge  with  Palamoun 
Lygurge  himself,  the  grete  king  of  Trace. 

Blak  was  his  herd,  and  manly  was  his  face ; 

The  cercles  of  his  eyen  in  his  heed, 

They  gloweden  bitwixe  yelow  and  reed ; 

And  lyk  a griffon  looked  he  aboute, 

With  kempe  heres  on  his  browes  stoute ; 

His  limes  grete,  his  brawnes  harde  and  stronge, 
His  shuldres  brode,  his  armes  rounde  and  longe. 
And  as  the  gise  was  in  his  contree, 

Ful  hye  upon  a char  of  gold  stood  he, 

With  foure  white  boles  in  the  trays. 

Instede  of  cote-armure  over  his  harnays, 

With  nayles0  yelwe,  and  brighte  as  any  gold 
He  hadde  a beres  skin,  col-blak,  for-old. 

His  longe  heer  was  kembd  bihinde  his  bak, 

As  any  ravenes  fether  it  shoon  for-blak ; 

A wrethe  of  gold  arm-greet,  of  huge  wighte, 
Upon  his  heed,  set  ful  of  stones  brighte, 

Of  fine  rubies  and  of  diamaunts. 

Aboute  his  char  ther  wenten  white  alaunts, 


2125 


2130 


2135 


2140 


2145 


88 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


Twenty  and  mo,  as  grete  as  any  steer, 

To  hnnten  at  the  leoun  or  the  deer, 

And  folwed  him  with  mosel  faste  y-bounde, 
Colered  of  golde,  and  torets  filed  rounde. 

An  hundred  lordes  hadde  he  in  his  route 
Armed  ful  wel,  with  hertes  sterne  and  stoute. 

With  Arcita,  in  stories  as  men  finde, 

The  grete  Emetreus,  the  king  of  Inde, 

Upon  a stede  bay  trapped  in  steel, 

Covered  in  cloth  of  gold  diapred  wel, 

Cam  riding  lyk  the  god  of  armes,  Mars. 

His  cote-armure  was  of  cloth  of  Tars,° 

Couched  with  perles  white  and  rounde  and  grete ; 
His  sadel  was  of  brend  gold  newe  y-bete ; 

A mantelet  upon  his  shuldre  hanginge 
Bret-ful  of  rubies  rede,  as  fyr  sparklinge. 

His  crispe  heer  lyk  ringes  was  y-ronne, 

And  that  was  yelow  and  glitered  as  the  sonne, 
His  nose  was  heigh,  his  eyen  bright  citryn, 

His  lippes  rounde,  his  colour  was  sangwyn ; 

A fewe  fraknes  in  his  face  y-spreynd, 

Betwixen  yelow  and  somdel  blak  y-meynd ; 

And  as  a leoun  he  his  loking  caste. 

Of  five  and  twenty  yeer  his  age  I caste. 

His  berd  was  wel  bigonne  for  to  springe ; 


2150 


2155 


2160 


2165 


2170 


THE  KNIGHT’S  TALE 


89 


His  voys  was  as  a trompe  thunderinge. 

Upon  his  heed  he  wered  of  laurer  grene 
A gerlond  fresh  and  lusty  for  to  sene. 

Upon  his  hand  he  bar  for  his  deduyt 
An  egle  tame,  as  eny  lilie  whyt. 

An  hundred  lordes  hadde  he  with  him  there, 
A1  armed  sauf  hir  heddes  in  al  hir  gere, 

Ful  richely  in  alle  maner  thinges. 

For  trusteth  wel  that  dukes,  erles,  kinges, 
Were  gadered  in  this  noble  compaignye, 

For  love,  and  for  encrees  of  chivalrye. 

Aboute  this  king  ther  ran  on  every  part 
Ful  many  a tan^e  leoun  and  leoparf. 

And  in  this  wise  thise  lordes  alle  and  some0 
Been  on  the  Sonday  to  the  citee  come 
Aboute  prime  and  in  the  toun  alight. 

This  Theseus,  this  duk,  this  worthy  knight, 
Whan  he  had  brought  hem  into  his  citee, 

And  inned  hem,  everich  at  his  degree, 

He  festeth  hem,  and  doth  so  greet  labour 
To  esen  hem  and  doon  hem  al  honour, 

That  yet  men  weneth  that  no  mannes  wit 
Of  noon  estat  ne  coude  amenden  it. 

The  minstralcye,  the  service  at  the  feeste, 
The  grete  yiftes  to  the  moste  and  leeste, 


2175 


2180 


2185 


219c 


2195 


90 


THE  KNIGHT:S  TALE 


The  riche  array  of  Theseus  paleys, 

Ne  who  sat  first  ne  last  upon  the  deys, 

What  ladies  fairest  been  or  best  daun  singe, 

Or  which  of  hem  can  dauncen  best  and  singe, 

Ne  who  most  felingly  speketh  of  love, 

What  haukes  sitten  on  the  perche  above, 

What  houndes  liggen  on  the  floor  adoun, — 

Of  al  this  make  I now  no  mencioun, 

But  al  theffect,  that  thinketh  me  the  beste ; 

Now  cometh  the  poynt,  and  herkneth  if  yow  leste. 

The  Sonday  night,  er  day  bigan  to  springe, 
When  Palamon  the  larke  herde  singe 
(Although  it  nere  nat  day  by  houres  two, 

Yet  song  the  larke,  and  Palamon  also), 

With  holy  herte  and  with  an  heigh  corage 
He  roos  to  wenden  on  his  pilgrimage 
Unto  the  blisful  Citherea  benigne, — 

I mene  Venus,  honurable  and  digne. 

And  in  hir  houre°  he  walketh  forth  a pas 
Unto  the  listes,  ther  hir  temple  was, 

And  doun  he  kneleth  and  with  humble  chere 
And  herte  soor,  he  seyde  as  ye  shul  here. 

‘ Faireste  of  faire,  o lady  myn  Venus, 

Doughter  of  Jove  and  spouse  to  Vulcanus, 

Thou  gladere  of  the  mount  of  Citheroun, 


2200 


2205 


2210 


2215 


2220 


THE  KNIGHT’S  TALE 


91 


For  thilke  love  thou  haddest  to  Adoun, 

Have  pitee  of  my  bittre  teres  smerte, 

And  tak  myn  humble  preyere  at  thyn  herte. 
Allas  ! I ne  have  no  langage  to  telle 
Theffectes  ne  the  torments  of  myn  helle ; 

Myn  herte  may  mine  harmes  nat  biwreye ; 

I am  so  confus  that  I can  nought  seye. 

But  mercy,  lady  bright,  that  knowest  wele 
My  thought  and  seest  what  harmes  that  I fele ; 
Considere  al  this  and  re  we  upon  my  sore, 

As  wisly  as  I shal  for  evermore 
Emforth  my  might  thy  trewe  servant  be, 

And  holden  werre  alway  with  chastitee ; 

That  make  I myn  avow,  so  ye  me  helpe. 

I kepe  nought  of  armes  for  to  yelpe,° 

Ne  I ne  axe  nat  tomorwe  to  have  victorie, 

Ne  renoun  in  this  cas,  ne  veyne  glorie 
Of  prys  of  armes  blowen0  up  and  doun ; 

But  I wolde  have  fully  possessioun 
Of  Emely e,  and  dye  in  thy  servise ; 

Eind  thou  the  maner  how,  and  in  what  wise. 

I recche  nat,°  but  it  may  bettre  be, 

To  have  victorie  of  hem  or  they  of  me, 

So  that  I have  my  lady  in  mine  armes. 

For  though  so  be  that  Mars  is  god  of  armes, 


2225 


2230 


2235 


2240 


2245 


92 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


Your  vertu  is  so  greet  in  hevene  above 
That  if  yow  list  I shal  wel  have  my  love. 

Thy  temple  wol  I worshipe  evermo, 

And  on  thyn  auter,  wher  I ride  or  go, 

I wol  doon  sacrifice  and  fires  bete. 

And  if  ye  wol  nat  so,  my  lady  swete, 

Than  preye  I thee,  tomorwe  with  a spere 
That  Arcita  me  thurgh  the  herte  bere. 

Than  rekke  I nought,  whan  I have  lost  my  lyf, 
Though  that  Arcita  winne  hir  to  his  wyf. 

This  is  the  effect  and  ende  of  my  preyere : 

Yif  me  my  love,  thou  blisful  lady  dere/ 

Whan  the  orisoun  was  doon  of  Palamon, 

His  sacrifice  he  dide,  and  that  anon, 

Ful  pitously  with  alle  circumstaunces, 

A1  tel]e  I nought  as  now  his  observaunces. 

But  atte  laste  the  statue  of  Venus  shook 
And  made  a signe,  wherby  that  he  took 
That  his  preyere  accepted  was  that  day. 

For  though  the  signe  shewed  a delay, 

Yet  wiste  he  wel  that  graunted  was  his  bone ; 
And  with  glad  herte  he  wente  him  hoom  ful  sone. 

The  thridde  houre  inequal0  that  Palamon 
Bigan  to  Venus  temple  for  to  gon, 

Up  roos  the  sonne  and  up  roos  Emelye,0 


2250 


2255 


2260 


2265 


2270 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


93 


And  to  the  temple  of  Diane  gan  hye. 

Hir  maydens  that  she  thider  with  hir  ladde 
Ful  redily  with  hem  the  fyr  they  hadde, 
Thencens,  the  clothes,  and  the  remenant  al 
That  to  the  sacrifice  longen  shal ; 

The  homes  fulle  of  meth,  as  was  the  gise ; 

Ther  lakked  nought  to  doon  hir  sacrifise. 

Smokinge0  the  temple,  ful  of  clothes  faire, 

This  Emelye  with  herte  debonaire 
Hir  body  wesh  with  water  of  a welle ; 

But  how  she  dide  hir  rite  I dar  nat  telle 
But  it  be  any  thing  in  general ; 

And  yet  it  were  a game0  to  heren  al. 

To  him  that  meneth  wel,  it  were  no  charge,0  — 
But  it  is  good  a man  ben  at  his  large.0 

Hir  brighte  heer  was  kempt,  untressed  al ; 

A coroune  of  a grene  ook  cerial 
Upon  hir  heed  was  set  ful  fair  and  mete. 

Two  fires  on  the  auter  gan  she  bete, 

And  dide  hir  thinges,  as  men  may  biholde 
In  Stace  of  Thebes,  and  thise  bokes  olde.° 

Whan  kindled  was  the  fyr,  with  pitous  chere 
Unto  Diane  she  spak  as  ye  may  here. 

‘ 0 chaste  goddesse  of  the  wodes  grene, 

To  whom  bothe  hevene  and  erthe  and  see  is  sene, 


2275 


2280 


2285 


2290 


2295 


94 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


Quene  of  the  regne  of  Pluto  derk  and  lowe, 
Goddesse  of  may  dens,  that  myn  herte  hast  knowe 
Ful  many  a yeer  and  woost  what  I desire, 

As  keep  me  fro  thy  vengeaunce  and  thyn  ire, 
That  Attheon  aboughte  cruelly. 

Chaste  goddesse,  wel  wostow  that  I 
Desire  to  been  a may  den  al  my  lyf, 

Ne  never  wol  I be  no  love  ne  wyf. 

I am,  thou  woost,  yet  of  thy  compaignye, 

A mayde,  and  love  hunting0  and  venerye,0 
And  for  to  walken  in  the  wodes  wilde, 

And  nought  to  been  a wyf  and  be  with  childe. 
Nought  wol  I knowe  compaignye  of  man. 

Now  help  me,  lady,  sith  ye  may  and  can, 

For  tho  thre  formes0  that  thou  hast  in  thee. 

And  Palamon,  that  hath  swich  love  to  me, 

And  eek  Arcite,  that  loveth  me  so  sore, 

(This  grace  I preye  thee  withoute  more) 

As  sende  love  and  pees  bitwixe  hem  two ; 

And  fro  me  torn  awey  hir  hertes  so 
That  al  hir  hote  love  and  hir  desyr 
And  al  hir  bisy  torment  and  hir  fyr 
Be  queynt,  or  turned  in  another  place. 

And  if  so  be  thou  wolt  do  me  no  grace, 

Or  if  my  destinee  be  shapen  so, 


2300 


2305 


2310 


2315 


2320 


THE  KNIGHT’S  TALE 


95 


That  I shal  nedes  have  oon  of  hem  two. 

As  sende  me  him  that  most  desireth  me. 
Bihold,  goddesse  of  clene  chastitee, 

The  bittre  teres  that  on  my  chekes  falle. 

Sin  thou  art  mayde,  and  kepere  of  us  alle, 
My  maydenhode  thou  kepe  and  wel  conserve, 
And  whyl  I live  a mayde,  I wol  thee  serve/ 
The  fires  brenne  up  on  the  auter  clere, 
Whil  Emelye  was  thus  in  hir  preyere ; 

But  sodeynly  she  saugh  a sighte  queynte, 
Eor  right  anon  oon  of  the  fires  queynte, 

And  quiked  agayn,  and  after  that  anon 
That  other  fyr  was  queynt  and  al  agon. 

And  as  it  queynte,  it  made  a whistelinge, 

As  doon  tliise  wete  brondes  in  hir  brenninge, 
And  at  the  brondes  ende  out-ran  anoon 
As  it  were  blody  dropes  many  oon. 

For  which  so  sore  agast  was  Emelye, 

That  she  was  wel  ny  mad,  and  gan  to  crye ; 
For  she  ne  wiste  what  it  signify ed ; 

But  only  for  the  fere  thus  hath  she  cryed 
And  weep  that  it  was  pitee  for  to  here. 

And  ther-with-al  Diane  gan  appere, 

With  bowe  in  hond,  right  as  an  hunteresse, 
And  seyde,  ‘ Doughter,  stint  thyn  hevinesse. 


'325 


2330 


2335 


2340 


2345 


96 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


Among  the  goddes  hye  it  is  affermed, 

And  by  eterne  word  writen  and  confermed, 
Thou  shalt  ben  wedded  unto  oon  of  tho 
That  han  for  thee  so  muchel  care  and  wo ; 
But  unto  which  of  hem  I may  nat  telle. 
Farwel,  for  I ne  may  no  lenger  dwelle, 

The  fires  which  that  on  myn  auter  brenne 
Shul  thee  declaren,  er  that  thou  go  henne, 
Thyn  aventure  of  love  as  in  this  cas.? 

And  with  that  word  the  arwes  in  the  cas 
Of  the  goddesse  clateren  faste  and  ringe, 

And  forth  she  wente  and  made  a vanishinge ; 
For  which  this  Emelye  astoned  was, 

And  seyde,  ‘ What  amounteth  this,  alias ! 

I putte  me  in  thy  proteccioun, 

Diane,  and  in  thy  disposicioun.’ 

And  hoom  she  goth  anon  the  nexte  weye. 
This  is  theffect,  ther  nis  namore  to  seye. 

The  nexte  houre°  of  Mars  folwinge  this, 
Arcite  unto  the  temple  walked  is 
Of  fierse  Mars,  to  doon  his  sacrifise 
With  alle  the  rites  of  his  payen  wise. 

With  pitous  herte  and  heigh  devocioun 
Right  thus  to  Mars  he  seyde  his  orisoun : 

1 0 stronge  god,  that  in  the  regnes  colde 
Of  Trace  honoured  art  and  lord  y-holde, 


2350 


2355 


2360 


2365 


2370 


THE  KNIGHT’S  TALE 


97 


And  hast  in  every  regne  and  every  lond 
Of  armes  al  the  bridel  in  thyn  hond, 

And  hem  fortunest  as  thee  list  devise, 

Accept  of  me  my  pitous  sacrifise. 

If  so  be  that  my  youthe  may  deserve, 

And  that  my  might  be  worthy  for  to  serve 
Thy  godhede,  that  I may  ben  oon  of  thine, 
Than  preye  I thee  to  rewe  upon  my  pine 
For  thilke  peyne,  and  thilke  hote  fyr 
In  which  thou  whilom  brendest  for  desyr, 
******* 

For  thilke  sorwe  that  was  in  thyn  herte, 

Have  routhe  as  wel  upon  my  peynes  smerte. 

I am  yong  and  unkonning,  as  thou  wost, 

And,  as  I trowe,  with  love  offended  most, 

That  evere  was  any  lives  creature ; 

For  she  that  doth0  me  al  this  wo  endure 
FTe  reccheth  never  wher  I sinke  or  flete. 

And  wel  I woot,  er  she  me  mercy  hete, 

I moot  with  strengthe  winne  hir  in  the  place0  \ 
And  wel  I woot,  withouten  help  or  grace 
Of  thee,  ne  may  my  strengthe  nought  availle. 
Than  help  me,  lord,  tom  or  we  in  my  bataille, 
For  thilke  fyr  that  whilom  brente  thee 
As  wel  as  thilke  fyr  now  brenneth  me ; 

H 


2375 


2380 


2395 


240a 


98 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


And  do°  that  I tomorwe  have  victorie. 

Myn  be  the  travaille,  and  thyn  be  the  glorie ! 
Thy  sovereyn  temple  wol  I most  honouren 
Of  any  place,  and  alwey  most  labouren 
In  thy  plesaunce  and  in  thy  craftes  stronge ; 
And  in  thy  temple  I wol  my  baner  honge 
And  alle  the  armes  of  my  compaignye ; 

And  everemo,  unto  that  day  I dye, 

Eterne  fyr  I wol  biforn  thee  finde. 

And  eek  to  this  avow  I wol  me  binde : 

My  berd,  myn  heer  that  hongeth  long  adoun, 
That  nevere  yet  ne  felte  offensioun 
Of  rasour  nor  of  shere,  I wol  the  yive,° 

And  been  thy  trewe  servant  whyl  I live. 

Now  lord,  have  routhe  upon  my  sorwes  sore, 
Yif  me  the  victorie,  I aske  thee  namore.’ 

The  preyer  stint  of  Arcita  the  stronge ; 

The  ringes  on  the  temple  dore  that  honge, 
And  eek  the  dores,  clatereden  ful  faste, 

Of  which  Arcita  somwhat  him  agaste. 

The  fires  brende  upon  the  auter  brighte, 

That  it  gan  al  the  temple  for  to  lighte ; 

And  swete  smel  the  ground  anon  up-yaf, 

And  Arcita  anon  his  hand  up-haf, 

And  more  encens  into  the  fyr  he  caste, 


2405 


2410 


2415 


2420 


2425 


THE  KNIGHT’S  TALE 


99 


With  othere  rites  mo;  and  atte  laste 
The  statue  of  Mars  bigaii  his  hauberk  ringe. 

And  with  that  soun  he  herde  a murmuringe 
Ful  lowe  and  dim,  that  sayde  thus,  ‘ Victorie ! * 
For  which  he  yaf  to  Mars  honour  and  glorie. 
And  thus  with  joye  and  hope  wel  to  fare 
Arcite  anon  unto  his  inne  is  fare, 

As  fayn  as  fowel  is  of  the  brighte  sonne. 

And  right  anon  swich  stryf  ther  is  bigonne 
For  thilke  graunting,  in  the  hevene  above, 
Bitwixe  Venus,  the  goddesse  of  love, 

And  Mars,  the  sterne  god  armipotente, 

That  Jupiter  was  bisy  it  to  stente; 

Til  that  the  pale  Saturnus  the  colde, 

That  knew  so  many  of  aventures  olde, 

Fond  in  his  olde  experience  an  art 
That  he  ful  sone  hath  plesed  every  part. 

As  sooth  is  sayd,  elde  hath  greet  avantage; 

In  elde  is  bothe  wisdom  and  usage ; 

‘ Men  may  the  olde  at-renne  and  nought  at-rede.* 
Saturne  anon,  to  stinten  stryf  and  drede, 

A1  be  it  that  it  is  agayn  his  kinde,° 

Of  al  this  stryf  he  gan  remedie  finde. 

‘My  dere  doughter  Venus/  quod  Saturne, 

‘ My  cours,  that  hath  so  wide  for  to  turne,° 


2430 


2435 


2440 


2445 


245Q 


100 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


Hath  more  power  than  wot  any  man. 

Myn  is  the  drenching  in  the  see  so  wan, 

Myn  is  the  prison  in  the  derke  cote, 

Myn  is  the  strangling  and  hanging  by  the  throte, 
The  murmure  and  the  cherles  rebelling, 

The  groyning  and  the  prive  empoysoning ; 

I do  vengeance  and  pleyn  correccioun, 

Wliyl  I dwelle  in  the  signe  of  the  leoun. 

Myn  is  the  mine  of  the  hye  halles, 

The  falling  of  the  toures  and  of  the  walles 
Upon  the  minour  or  the  carpenter. 

I slow  Sampson  shakinge  the  piler; 

And  mine  be  the  maladyes  colde, 

The  derke  tresons  and  the  castes  olde ; 

My  looking  is  the  fader  of  pestilence. 

Now  weep  namore,  I shal  doon  diligence 
That  Palamon,  that  is  thyn  owene  knight, 

Shal  have  his  lady,  as  thou  hast  him  hight. 
Though  Mars  shal  helpe  his  knight,  yet  natheless 
Bitwixe  yow  ther  moot  be  som  time  pees, 

A1  be  ye  nought  of  o complexioun, 

That  causeth  al  day  swich  divisioun. 

I am  thyn  aiel,  redy  at  thy  wille ; 

Weep  thou  namore,  I wol  thy  lust  fulfilled 
Now  wol  I stinten  of  the  goddes  above, 


3455 


2460 


2465 


2470 


2475 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


101 


Of  Mars,  and  of  Venus,  goddesse  of  love,  2480 

And  telle  yow  as  pleynly  as  I can 
The  grete  effect  for  which  that  I bigan. 

Explicit  ter  da  pars.  Sequitur  pars  quarta • 

Greet  was  the  feste  in  Atthenes  that  day, 

And  eek  the  lusty  sesoun  of  that  May 

Made  every  wight  to  been  in  swich  plesaunce,  2485 

That  al  that  Monday  justen  they  and  daunee, 

And  spenden  it  in  Venus  heigh  servise. 

But  by  the  cause  that  they  sholde  rise 
Erly,  for  to  seen  the  grete  fight, 

Unto  hir  reste  wenten  they  at  night.  2490 

And  on  the  raorwe,  whan  that  day  gan  springe, 

Of  hors  and  harneys  noyse  and  clateringe 
Ther  was  in  hostelryes  al  aboute ; 

And  to  the  paleys  rood  ther  many  a route 
Of  lordes,  upon  stedes  and  palfreys.  2495 

Ther  maystow  seen  devising  of  herneys 
So  uncouth  and  so  riche,  and  wrought  so  weel 
Of  goldsmithrye,  of  browding,  and  of  steel ; 

The  sheeldes  brighte,  testeres,  and  trappures ; 
Gold-hewen  helmes,  hauberkes,  cote-ar  mures ; 250a 

Lordes  in  paraments  on  hir  courseres, 

Knightes  of  retenue,  and  eek  squyeres 


102 


THE  KNIGHT’S  TALE 


Nailing  the  speres,  and  helmes  bokelinge, 

Gigginge  of  sheeldes,  with  layneres  lacinge ; 

Ther  as  need  is,  they  weren  nothing  idel ; 2503 

The  fomy  stedes  on  the  golden  bridel 
Gnawinge,  and  faste  the  armurers  also 
With  file  and  hamer  priking  to  and  fro; 

Yemen  on  fote,  and  communes  many  oon 

With  shorte  staves,  thikke  as  they  may  goon;  2510 

Pipes,  trompes,  nakers,  clariounes, 

That  in  the  bataille  blowen  blody  sounes ; 

The  paleys  ful  of  peples  up  and  doun, 

Heer  thre,  ther  ten,  holding  hir  questioun, 

Divininge  of  thise  Theban  knightes  two.  2515 

Somme  seyden  thus,  somme  seyde  it  shal  be  so; 
Somme  helden  with  him  with  the  blake  berd, 

Somme  with  the  balled,  somme  with  the  thikke-herd ; 
Somme  sayde,  he°  looked  grim,  and  he°  wolde  fighte, 
He°  hath  a sparth  of  twenty  pound  of  wighte.  2520 
Thus  was  the  halle  ful  of  divininge, 

Longe  after  that  the  sonne  gan  to  springe. 

The  grete  Theseus,  that  of  his  sleep  awaked 
With  minstralcye  and  noyse  that  was  maked, 

Held  yet  the  chambre  of  his  paleys  riche,  2525 

Til  that  the  Theban  knightes,  both  y-liche 
Honoured,  were  into  the  paleys  fet. 


THE  KNIGHT’S  TALE 


103 


Duk  Theseus  was  at  a window  set, 

Arrayed  right  as  he  were  a god  in  trone. 

The  peple  presseth  thider-ward  ful  sone 
Him  for  to  seen,  and  doon  heigh  reverence, 

And  eek  to  herkne  his  heste  and  his  sentence. 

An  heraud  on  a scaffold  made  an  ‘ Ho ! 9 
Til  al  the  noyse  of  the  peple  was  y-do ; 

And  whan  he  saugh  the  peple  of  noyse  al  stille, 
Tho  shewed  he  the  mighty  dukes  wille. 

‘ The  lord  hath  of  his  heigh  discrecioun 
Considered  that  it  were  destruccioun 
To  gentil  blood  to  fight en  in  the  gise 
Of  mortal  bataille  now  in  this  emprise ; 

Wherfor,  to  shapen  that  they  shul  not  dye, 

He  wol  his  firste  purpos  modifye. 

‘No  man  therfor,  up  peyne  of  los  of  lyf, 

No  maner  shot,  ne  pollax,  ne  short  knyf 
Into  the  listes  sende,  or  thider  bringe ; 

Ne  short  swerd  for  to  stoke  with  poynt  bitinge, 
No  man  ne  drawe,  ne  bere  by  his  side. 

Ne  no  man  shal  unto  his  felawe  ride 
But  o cours  with  a sharp  y-grounde  spere ; 

Foyne,  if  him  list,  on  fote,  himself  to  were. 

And  he  that  is  at  meschief  shal  be  take, 

And  nought  slayn,  but  be  brought  unto  the  stake 


*53° 


2535 


2540 


«545 


255a 


104 


THE  KNIGHT’S  TALE 


That  shal  ben  ordeyned  on  either  side ; 

But  thider  he  shal  by  force,  and  ther  abide. 

‘■And  if  so  falle,  the  chevetayn  be  take  2555 

On  either  side,  or  elles  sleen  his  make, 

No  lenger  shal  the  turneyinge  laste. 

God  spede  yow ; goth  forth,  and  ley  on  faste. 

With  long  swerd  and  with  maces  fighteth  your  fille. 
Goth  now  your  wey ; this  is  the  lordes  willed  2560 
The  voys  of  peple  touchede  the  hevene, 

So  loude  criden  they  with  mery  stevene : 

‘ God  save  swich  a lord,  that  is  so  good, 

He  wilneth  no  destruccioun  of  blood  ! ? 

Up  goon  the  trompes  and  the  melodye,  2565 

And  to  the  listes  rit  the  compaignye 
By  ordinaunce  thurgliout  the  citee  large, 

Hanged  with  cloth  of  gold,  and  nat  with  sarge. 

Ful  lyk  a lord  this  noble  duk  gan  ride, 

Thise  two  Thebanes  upon  either  side ; 2570 

And  after  rood  the  quene  and  Emelye, 

And  after  that  another  compaignye 
Of  oon  and  other,  after  hir  degree; 

And  thus  they  passen  thurghout  the  citee, 

And  to  the  listes  come  they  by  time. 

It  nas  not  of  the  day  yet  fully  prime, 

Whan  set  was  Theseus  ful  riche  and  hye. 


2575 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


105 


Ipolita  the  quene  and  Emelye, 

And  othere  ladies  in  degrees  aboute. 

Unto  the  setes  presseth  al  the  route ; 

And  westward,  thurgh  the  gates  under  Marte, 
Arcite,  and  eek  the  hundred  of  his  parte, 

With  baner  reed  is  entred  right  anon ; 

And  in  that  selve  moment  Palamon 
Is  under  Venus,  estward  in  the  place, 

With  baner  whyt,  and  hardy  chere  and  face. 

In  al  the  world,  to  seken  up  and  doun, 

So  evene  withouten  variacioun, 

Ther  nere  swiche  compaignyes  tweye. 

Eor  ther  nas  noon  so  wys  that  coude  seye, 

That  any  hadde  of  other  avauntage 
Of  worthinesse,  ne  of  estaat,  ne  age, 

So  even  were  they  chosen,  for  to  gesse ; 

And  in  two  renges  faire  they  hem  dresse. 

Whan  that  hir  names  rad  were  everichoon, 
That  in  hir  nombre  gile  were  ther  noon, 

Tho  were  the  gates  shet,  and  cryed  was  loude : 

‘ Do  now  your  devoir,  yonge  knightes  proude  ! 9 

The  heraudes  lefte  hir  priking  up  and  doun ; 
Now  ringen  trompes  loude  and  clarioun; 

Ther  is  namore  to  seyn,  but  west  and  est 
In  goon  the  speres  ful  sadly  in  arest ; 


2580 


2585 


2590 


2595 


260c 


106 


THE  KNIGHT’S  TALE 


In  goth  the  sharpe  spore  into  the  side. 

Ther  seen  men  who  can  juste  and  who  can  ride ; 

Ther  shiveren  shaftes  upon  sheeldes  thikke ; 2605 

He  feleth  thurgh  the  lierte-spoon  the  prikke. 

Up  springen  speres  twenty  foot  on  highte; 

Out  goon  the  swerdes  as  the  silver  brighte; 

The  helmes  they  to-hewen  and  to-shrede, 

Out  brest  the  blood  with  sterne  stremes  rede ; 2610 

With  mighty  maces  the  bones  they  to-breste. 

He  thurgh  the  thikkeste  of  the  throng  gan  threste ; 
Ther  stomblen  stedes  stronge  and  doun  goth  al ; 

He°  rolleth  under  foot  as  doth  a bal ; 

He°  foyneth  on  his  feet  with  his  tronchoun;  2615 

And  he°  him  hurtleth  with  his  hors  adoun. 

He  thurgh  the  body  is  hurt,  and  sithen  y-take, 
Maugree  his  heed,  and  brought  unto  the  stake ; 

As  forward  was,  right  ther  he  moste  abide  5 
Another  lad  is  on  that  other  side.  2620 

And  som  time  doth  hem0  Theseus  to  reste, 

Hem°  to  refreshe,  and  drinken  if  hem  leste. 

Ful  ofte  a-day  han  thise  Thebanes  two 
Togidre  y-met,  and  wrought  his  felawe  wo° ; 

Unhorsed  hath  ech  other  of  hem  tweye.  2625 

Ther  nas  no  tigre  in  the  vale  of  Galgopheye, 

Whan  that  hir  whelp  is  stole  whan  it  is  lite, 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE  107 

So  cruel  on  the  hunte0  as  is  Arcite 
For  jalous  herte  upon  this  Palamoun; 

Ne  in  Belmarie  there  nis  so  fel  leoun,°  2630 

That  hunted  is  or  for  his  hunger  wood, 

Ne  of  his  prey  desireth  so  the  blood, 

As  Palamon  to  sleen  his  foo  Arcite. 

The  jalous  strokes  on  hir  helmes  bite; 

Out  renneth  blood  on  both  hir  sides  rede.  2635 

Som  time  an  ende  ther  is  of  every  dede ; 

For  er  the  sonne  unto  the  reste  wente, 

The  stronge  king  Emetreus  gan  hente 
This  Palamon,  as  he  faught  with  Arcite, 

And  made  his  swerd  depe  in  his  flesh  to  bite ; 2640 

And  by  the  force  of  twenty  is  he  take0 
Unyolden,  and  y-drawe  unto  the  stake. 

And  in  the  rescous  of  this  Palamoun 
The  stronge  king  Ligurge  is  born  adoun ; 

And  king  Emetreus,  for  al  his  strengthe,  2645 

Is  born  out  of  his  sadel  a swerdes  lengthe, 

So  hitte  him  Palamon  er  he  were  take0 ; 

But  al  for  nought,  he  was  brought  to  the  stake. 

His  hardy  herte  mighte  him  helpe  naught ; 

He  moste  abide,  whan  that  he  was  caught,  265a 

By  force  and  eek  by  composicioun.0 

Who  sorweth  now  but  woful  Palamoun, 


108 


THE  KNIGHT’S  TALE 


That  moot  namore  goon  agayn  to  fighte  ? 

And  whan  that  Theseus  liadde  seyn  this  sighte, 

Unto  the  folk  that  foughten  thus  echon  2655 

He  cride,  ‘ Ho  ! namore,  for  it  is  don ! 

I wol  be  trewe  juge  and  no  party  e : 

Arcite  of  Thebes  shal  have  Emelye, 

That  by  his  fortune  hath  hir  faire  y-wonne.? 

Anon  ther  is  a noyse  of  peple  bigonne  2660 

For  joye  of  this,  so  loude  and  heighe  witlialle, 

It  semed  that  the  listes  sholde  falle. 

What  can  now  faire  Venus  doon  above  ? 

What  seith  she  now  ? what  doth  this  quene  of  love 
But  wepeth  so,  for  wanting  of  hir  wille,  2665 

Til  that  hir  teres  in  the  listes  fille  ? 

She  seyde,  ‘ I am  ashamed  doutelees.’ 

Saturnus  seyde,  ‘ Doughter,  hold  thy  pees. 

Mars  hath  his  wille,  his  knight  hath  al  his  bone, 

And,  by  myn  heed,  thou  shalt  ben  esed  sone.*  2670 
The  trompes  with  the  loude  minstralcye, 

The  heraudes  that  ful  loude  yolle  and  crye, 

Been  in  hir  wele°  for  joye  of  daun  Arcite. 

But  herkneth  me,  and  stinteth  now  a lite, 

Which  a miracle  ther  bifel  anon.  2675 

This  fierse  Arcite  hath  of  his  helm  y-don,° 

And  on  a courser  for  to  shewe  his  face 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


109 


He  priketh  endelong  the  large  place,0 
Loking  upward  upon  this  Emelye ; 

And  she  agayn  him  caste  a frendlich  ye 
(For  worn  men,  as  to  spekeii  in  comune, 
They  folwen  al  the  favour  of  fortune), 

And  was  al  his  chere,  as  in  his  herte.° 

Out  of  the  ground  a furie  infernal  sterte, 
From  Pluto  sent  at  requeste  of  Saturne, 
For  which  his  hors  for  fere  gan  to  turne, 
And  leep  aside  and  foundred  as  he  leep ; 
And  er  that  Arcite  may  taken  keep, 

He  pighte  him  on  the  pom  el  of  his  heed, 
That  in  the  place  he  lay  as  he  were  deed, 
His  brest  to-brosten  with  his  sadel-bowe. 
As  blak  he  lay  as  any  cole  or  crowe, 

So  was  the  blood  y-ronnen  in  his  face. 

Anon  he  was  y-born  out  of  the  place 
With  herte  soor  to  Theseus  paleys. 

Tho  was  he  corven®  out  of  his  harneys, 
And  in  a bed  y-brought  ful  faire  and  blive ; 
For  he  was  yet  in  memorie0  and  alive, 

And  alway  crying  after  Emelye. 

Duk  Theseus  with  al  his  compaignye 
Is  comen  hoom  to  Atthenes  his  citee, 

With  alle  blisse  and  greet  solempnitee. 


2680 


2685 


2690 


2695 


2700 


110 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


A1  be  it  that  this  aventure  was  falle, 

He  nolde  nought  disconforten  hem  alle. 

Men  seyde  eek  that  Arcite  shal  nat  dye, 

He  shal  ben  heled  of  his  maladye. 

And  of  another  thing  they  were  as  fayn, 
That  of  hem  alle  was  ther  noon  y-slayn, 

A1  were  they  sore  y-hurt,  and  namely  oon, 
That  with  a spere  was  thirled  his  brest-boon.° 
To  othere0  woundes  and  to  broken  armes, 

Some  hadden  salves  and  some  hadden  charmes 
Fermacies  of  herbes,  and  eek  save0 
They  dronken,  for  they  wolde  hir  limes  have. 
For  which  this  noble  duk,  as  he  wel  can, 
Conforteth  and  honoureth  every  man, 

And  made  revel  al  the  longe  night, 

Unto  the  straunge  lordes,  as  was  right. 

He  ther  was  holden  no  disconfi tinge,0 
But  as  a justes  or  a tourneyinge ; 

For  soothly  ther  was  no  disconfiture ; 

For  falling  nis  nat  but  an  aventure ; 

He  to  be  lad  by  force  unto  the  stake 
Uny olden,  and  with  twenty  knightes  take, 

0 persone  allone  withouten  mo, 

And  haried  forth  by  arme,  foot,  and  too, 

And  eek  his  stede  driven  forth  with  staves, 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


111 


With  foot-men,  bothe  yemen  and  eek  knaves,  — 

It  nas  aretted  him  no  vileinye, 

Ther  may  no  man  clepen  it  cowardye.  273c 

For  which  anon  duk  Theseus  leet  crye,° 

To  stinten  alle  rancour  and  envye, 

The  gree  as  wel  of  o side  as  of  other, 

And  either  side  y-lyk  as  otheres  brother; 

And  yaf  hem  yiftes  after  hir  degree,  2735 

And  fully  heeld  a feste  dayes  three ; 

And  conveyed  the  kinges  worthily 
Out  of  his  toun  a journee  largely. 

And  hoom  wente  every  man  the  righte  way ; 

Ther  was  namore  but  ‘ Farewel ! ? ' Have  good  day ! ? 2740 
Of  this  bataille  I wol  namore  endite, 

But  speke  of  Palamoun  and  of  Arcite. 

Swelleth  the  brest  of  Arcite,  and  the  sore 
Encreseth  at  his  herte  more  and  more. 

The  clothered  blood,  for  any  lechecraft, 

Corrupteth,  and  is  in  his  bouk  y-laft, 

That  neither  veyne-blood  ne  ventusinge 
Ne  drinke  of  herbes  may  ben  his  helpinge. 

The  vertu  expulsyf,0  or  animal, 

Fro  thilke  vertu  cleped  natural, 

He  may  the  venim  voyden  ne  expelle. 

The  pipes  of  his  longes  gonne  to  swelle, 


2745 


3750 


112 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


And  every  lacerte  in  his  brest  adoun 
Is  shent  with  venini  and  corrupcioun. 

Him  gayneth  neither,  for  to  gete  his  lyf,  2755 

Vomyt  upward  ne  dounward  laxatyf; 

A1  is  to-brosten  thilke  regioun, 

Nature  hath  now  no  dominacioun. 

And  certeynly,  ther  nature  wol  nat  wirche, 

Farewel,  phisyk  ! go  ber  the  man  to  chirche  ! 0 2760 

This  al  and  som,°  that  Arcita  moot  dye ; 

For  which0  he  sendeth  after  Emelye, 

And  Palamon,  that  was  his  cosin  dere ; 

Than  seyde  he  thus  as  ye  shut  after  here.0 

‘ Naught  may  the  woful  spirit  in  myn  herte  2765 
Declare  o poynt.  of  alle  my  sorwes  smerte 
To  yow,  my  lady,  that  I love  most ; 

But  I biquethe  the  service  of  my  gost 
To  yow  aboven  every  creature, 

Sin  that  my  lyf  may  no  lenger  dure.  2770 

Allas,  the  wo ! alias,  the  peynes  stronge 
That  I for  yow  have  suffred,  and  so  longe! 

Allas,  the  deeth  ! alias,  myn  Emelye  ! 

Allas,  departing0  of  our  compaignye ! 

Allas  myn  hertes  quene  ! alias,  my  wyf ! 2775 

Myn  hertes  lady,  endere  of  my  lyf ! 

What  is  this  world  ? what  asketh  men  to  have  ? 


THE  KNIGHT’S  TALE 


113 


Now  with  his  love,  now  in  his  colde  grave 

Allone,  withouten  any  compaignye.0 

Farewel,  my  swete  fo  ! myn  Emelye  ! 2780 

And  softe  tak  me  in  your  armes  tweye, 

For  love  of  God,  and  herkneth  what  I seye. 

‘ I have  heer  with  my  cosin  Palamon 
Had  stryf  and  rancour  many  a day  a-gon, 

For  love  of  yow  and  for  my  jalousye ; 2785 

And  Jupiter  so  wis  my  soule  gye 
(To  speken  of  a servant  proprely, 

With  alle  circumstaunces  trewely  ; 

That  is  to  seyne,  trouthe,  honour,  knighthede, 

Wisdom,  humblesse,  estaat,  and  heigh  kinrede,  2790 
Fredom,  and  al  that  longeth  to  that  art°), 

So  Jupiter  have  of  my  soule  part,0 

As  in  this  world,  right  now  ne  knowe  I non 

So  worthy  to  be  loved  as  Palamon, 

That  serveth  yow  and  wol  doon  al  his  lyf.  2795 

And  if  that  evere  ye  shul  been  a wyf,° 

Foryet  nat  Palamon,  the  gentil  man.5 
And  with  that  word  his  speche  faille  gan ; 

For  fro  his  feet  up  to  his  brest  was  come 

The  cold  of  deetli  that  hadde  him  overcome,  2800 

And  yet  moreover,  for  in  his  armes  two 

The  vital  strengthe  is  lost  and  al  ago. 


114 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


Only  the  intellect  withouten  more, 

That  dwelled  in  his  herte  sik  and  sore, 

Gan  faillen  when  the  herte  felte  deeth.  2805 

Dusked  his  eyen  two  and  failled  breeth, 

But  on  his  lady  yet  caste  he  his  ye ; 

His  laste  word  was,  ‘ Mercy,  Emelye  ! ? 

His  spirit  chaunged  hous  and  wente  ther° 

As  I cam  never ; I can  nat  tellen  wher.  2810 

Therfor  I stinte,  I nam  no  divinistre ; 

Of  soules  finde  I nat  in  this  registre, 

Ne  me  ne  list  thilke  opiniouns  to  telle 
Of  hem,  though  that  they  writen  wher  they  dwelle. 
Arcite  is  cold ; ther  Mars  his  soule  gye.  2815 

Now  wol  I speken  forth  of  Emelye. 

Shrighte  Emelye,  and  howleth  Palamon, 

And  Theseus  his  suster  took  anon 
Swowninge,  and  bar  hir  fro  the  corps  away. 

What  helpeth  it  to  tarien  forth  the  day,  2820 

To  tellen  how  she  weep,  both  eve  and  morwe  ? 

For  in  swich  cas  wommen  have  swich  sorwe, 

Whan  that  hir  housbondes  been  from  hem  ago, 

That  for  the  more  part  they  sorwen  so, 

Or  elles  fallen  in  swich  maladye  2825 

That  at  the  laste  certeynly  they  dye. 

Infinite  been  the  sorwes  and  the  teres 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


115 


Of  olde  folk,  and  folk  of  tendre  yeres, 

In  al  the  toun  for  deetli  of  this  Theban. 

For  him  ther  wepeth  bothe  child  and  man ; 2830 

So  greet  a weping  was  ther  noon  certayn, 

Whan  Ector  was  y -brought,  al  fresh  y-slayn, 

To  Troye.  Allas  ! the  pitee  that  was  ther, 

Cracching  of  chekes,  rending  eek  of  heer. 

6 Why  woldestow  be  deed/  thise  wommen  crye,  2835 
‘ And  haddest  gold  ynough  and  Emelye ! ’ 

No  man  mighte  gladen  Theseus, 

Savinge  his  olde  fader  Egeus, 

That  knew  this  worldes  transmutacioun, 

As  he  hadde  seyn  it  up  and  doun,  2840 

Joye  after  wo,  and  wo  after  gladnesse; 

And  shewed  hem  ensamples  and  lyknesse. 

‘ Eight  as  ther  deyed  nevere  man/  quod  he, 

< That  he  ne  lived  in  erthe  in  som  degree, 

Eight  so  ther  lived  nevere  man/  he  seyde,  2845 

‘ In  al  this  world,  that  som  time  he  ne  deyde. 

This  world  nis  but  a thurghfare  ful  of  wo, 

And  we  ben  pilgrimes  passing  to  and  fro ; 

Deeth  is  an  ende  of  every  worldly  sore.5 

And  over  al  this  yet  seyde  he  muchel  more  2850 

To  this  effect,  ful  wysly  to  enhorte 

The  peple  that  they  sholde  hem  reconforte. 


116 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


Duk  Theseus  with  al  his  bisy  cure 
Cast  now  wher  that  the  sepulture 
Of  good  Arcite  may  best  y-maked  be, 

And  eek  most  honurable  in  his  degree. 

And  at  the  laste  he  took  conclusioun 
That  ther  as  first  Arcite  and  Palamoun 
Hadden  for  love  the  bataille  hem  bitwene, 
That  in  that  selve  grove,  swote  and  grene, 
Ther  as  he  hadde  his  amorouse  desires, 

His  compleynte,  and  for  love  his  hote  fires, 
He  wolde  make  a fyr  in  which  the  office 
Funeral  he  mighte  all  accomplice ; 

And  leet  comaunde  anon  to  hakke  and  hewe 
The  okes  olde,  and  leye  hem  on  a rewe 
In  colpons  wel  arrayed  for  to  brenne. 

His  officers  with  swifte  feet  they  renne, 

And  ride  anon  at  his  comaundement. 

And  after  this,  Theseus  hath  y-sent 
After  a here,  and  it  al  overspradde 
With  cloth  of  gold,  the  richest  that  he  hadde 
And  of  the  same  suyte  he  cladde  Arcite. 
Upon  his  hondes  hise  gloves0  white, 

Eek  on  his  heed  a coroune  of  laurer  grene, 
And  in  his  hond  a swerd  ful  bright  and  kene, 
He  leyde  him,  bare  the  visage,  on  the  bere. 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


117 


Therwith  he  weep  that  pitee  was  to  here ; 

And  for  the  peple  sholde  seen  him  alle, 

Whan  it  was  day,  he  broughte  him  to  the  halle, 
That  roreth  of  the  crying  and  the  soun. 

Tho  cam  this  woful  Theban  Palamoun, 
With-flotery  berd  and  ruggy  ashy  heres, 

In  clothes  blake,  y-dropped  al  with  teres  ; 

And,  passing0  othere  of  weping,  Emelye, 

The  rewfulleste  of  al  the  compaignye. 

In  as  muche  as  the  service  sholde  be 
The  more  noble  and  riche  in  his  degree,0 
Duk  Theseus  leet  forth  three  stedes  bringe, 

That  trapped  were  in  steel  al  gliteringe, 

And  covered  with  the  arines  of  daun  Arcite. 

Up  on  thise  stedes  grete  and  white, 

Ther  seten  folk,  of  which  oon  bar  his  sheeld, 
Another  his  spere  up  in  his  hondes  heeld, 

The  thridde  bar  with  him  his  bowe  Turkeys, 

Of  brend  gold  was  the  cas,  and  eek  the  harneys ) 
And  riden  forth  a pas  with  sorweful  chere 
Toward  the  grove,  as  ye  shul  after  here. 

The  nobleste  of  the  Grekes  that  ther  were 
Upon  hir  shuldres  carieden  the  bere, 

With  slake  pas,  and  eyen  rede  and  wete, 
Thurghout  the  citee,  by  the  maister-strete, 


2880 


2885 


2890 


2895 


2900 


118 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


That  sprad  was  al  with  blak,  and  wonder  hye 
Eight  of  the  same  is  the  strete  y-wrye. 

Upon  the  right  hond  wente  old  Egeus,  2905 

And  on  that  other  side  duk  Theseus, 

With  vessels  in  hir  hand  of  gold  wel  fyn, 

Al  ful  of  hony,  milk,  and  blood,  and  wyn ; 

Eek  Palamon,  with  ful  greet  compaignye ; 

And  after  that  cam  woful  Emelye,  2910 

With  fyr  in  honde,  as  was  that  time  the  gise, 

To  do  the  office  of  funeral  servise. 

Heigh  labour  and  ful  greet  apparaillinge 
Was  at  the  service  and  the  fyr-makinge, 

That  with  his  grene  top  the  heven  raughte,  2915 

And  twenty  fadme  of  brede  the  armes  straughte ; 

This  is  to  seyn,  the  bowes  were  so  brode. 

Of  stree  first  ther  was  leyd  ful  many  a lode ; 

But  how  the  fyr  was  maked  up  on  highte ; 

And  eek  the  names  how  the  trees  highte,  2920 

As  00k,  firre,  birch,  asp,.  alder,  holm,  popler, 

Wilow,  elm,  plane,  ash,  box,  chasteyn,  lind,  laurer, 
Mapul,  thorn,  beech,  hasel,  ew,  whippeltre; 

How  they  weren  feld,  — shal  nat  be  told  for  me ; 

He  how  the  goddes  ronnen  up  and  doun,  2925 

Disherited  of  hir  habitacioun, 

In  which  they  woneden  in  reste  and  pees, 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


119 


Nymphes,  Faunes,  and  Amadrides ; 

Ne  how  the  bestes  and  the  briddes  alle 

Fledden  for  fere,  whan  the  wode  was  falle ; 2930 

Ne  how  the  ground  agast  was  of  the  light, 

That  was  nat  wont  to  seen  the  sonne  bright ; 

Ne  how  the  fyr  was  couched  first  with  stree, 

And  than  with  drye  stokkes  cloven  a three, 

And  than  with  grene  wode  and  spicerye,  2935 

And  than  with  cloth  of  gold  and  with  perrye, 

And  gerlandes  hanging  with  ful  many  a flour, 

The  mirre,  thencens,  with  al  so  greet  odour  \ 

Ne  how  Arcite  lay  among  al  this, 

Ne  what  richesse  aboute  his  body  is ; *940 

Ne  how  that  Emelye,  as  was  the  gise, 

Putte  in  the  fyr  of  funeral  servise ; 

Ne  how  she  swowned  whan  maad  was  the  fyr, 

Ne  what  she  spak,  ne  what  was  hir  desyr ; 

Ne  what  jeweles  men  in  the  fyr  caste,  2945 

Whan  that  the  fyr  was  greet  and  brente  faste ; 

Ne  how  somme  caste  hir  sheeld,  and  somme  hir  spere, 
And  of  hir  vestiments  whiche  that  they  were, 

And  cuppes  ful  of  wyn,  and  milk,  and  blood, 

Into  the  fyr,  that  brente  as  it  were  wood ; 295a 

Ne  how  the  Grekes  with  an  huge  route 
Thryes  riden  al  the  fyr  aboute 


120 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


Upon  the  left  hand  with  a loud  shoutinge, 

And  thryes  with  hir  speres  clateringe ; 

And  thryes  how  the  ladies  gonne  crye ; 2955 

He  how  that  lad  was  homward  Emelye ; 

Ne  how  Arcite  is  brent  to  ashen  colde; 

Ne  how  that  liche-wake  was  y-holde 
A1  thilke  night ; ne  how  the  Grekes  pleye 
The  wake-pl  eyes  ; ne  kepe  I nat  to  seye  2960 

Who  wrastleth  best  naked  with  oille  enoynt, 

Ne  who  that  bar  him  best,  in  no  disjoynt.0 
I wol  nat  tellen  eek  how  that  they  goon 
Hoorn  til  Atthenes  whan  the  pley  is  doon. 

But  shortly  to  txie  poynt  than  wol  I wende,  2965 

And  maken  of  my  longe  tale  an  ende. 

By  processe  and  by  lengthe  of  certeyn  yeres 
A1  stinted  is  the  mourning  and  the  teres. 

Of  Grekes  by  oon  general  assent, 

Than  seemed  me  ther  was  a parlement  2970 

At  Atthenes,  upon  certeyn  poynts  and  cas ; 

Among  the  whiche  poynts  y-spoken  was 
To  have  with  certeyn  contrees  alliaunce, 

And  have  fully  of  Thebans  obeisaunce. 

For  which  this  noble  Theseus  anon  2975 

Leet  senden  after  gentil  Palamon, 

XJnwist0  of  him  what  was  the  cause  and  why  5 


THE  KNIGHT’S  TALE 


121 


But  in  his  blake  clothes  sorwefully 
He  cam  at  his  comaundement  in  hye. 

Tho  sente  Theseus  for  Emelye.  2980 

Whan  they  were  set,  and  hust  was  al  the  place, 

And  Theseus  abiden  hadde  a space 
Er  any  word  cam  from  his  wise  brest, 

His  eyen  sette°  he  ther  as  was  his  lest, 

And  with  a sad  visage  he  siked  stille,  2985 

And  after  that  right  thus  he  seyde  his  wille. 

‘The  Eirste  Moevere  of  the  cause  above,0 
Whan  he  first  made  the  faire  cheyne  of  love, 

Greet  was  theffect,  and  heigh  was  his  entente. 

Wei  wiste  he  why  and  what  therof  he  mente ; 2990 

For  with  that  faire  cheyne  of  love  he  bond 
The  fyr,  the  eyr,  the  water,  and  the  lond 
In  certeyn  boundes  that  they  may  nat  flee. 

That  same  Prince  and  that  Moevere/  quod  he, 

‘ Hath  stablissed  in  this  wrecched  world  adoun  2995 
Certeyne  dayes  and  duracioun 
To  all  that  is  engendred  in  this  place, 

Over  the  whiche  day  they  may  nat  pace, 

Al  mo  we  they  yet  tho  dayes  wel  abregge ; 

Ther  needeth  non  auctoritee  to  allegge,  3000 

For  it  is  preved  by  experience, 

But  that  me  list  declaren  my  sentence.0 


122 


THE  KNIGHT’S  TALE 


Tlian  may  men  by  this  ordre  wel  discerne 
That  thilke  Moevere  stable  is  an  eterne. 

Wel  may  men  knowe,  but  it  be  a fool, 

That  every  part  deriveth  from  his  hool ; ° 

For  nature  hath  nat  take  his  biginning 
Of  no  partye  ne  cantel  of  a thing, 

But  of  a thing  that  parfit  is  and  stable, 
Descending  so  til  it  be  corrumpable. 

And  therfore  of  his  wise  purveyaunce, 

He  hath  so  wel  biset  his  ordinaunce, 

That  speces  of  thinges  and  progressiouns 
Shullen  endure  by  successiouns, 

And  nat  eterne,  with-outen  any  lye ; ° 

This  maistow  understonde  and  seen  at  ye. 

6 Lo  the  ook,  that  hath  so  long  a norishinge 
Fro  time  that  it  first  biginneth  springe, 

And  had  so  long  a lyf,  as  we  may  see, 

Yet  at  the  laste  wasted  is  the  tree. 

‘ Considereth  eek,  how  that  the  harde  stoon 
Under  our  feet,  on  which  we  trede  and  goon, 
Yit  wasteth  it,  as  it  lith  by  the  weye. 

The  brode  river  sometime  wexeth  dreye. 

The  grete  tounes  see  we  wane  and  wende. 
Than  may  ye  see  that  al  this  thing  hath  ende. 
‘ Of  man  and  womman  seen  we  wel  also 


3°°5 


3010 


3015 


3020 


3°*5 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


123 


That  nedeth,0  in  oon  of  thise  termes  two, 

This  is  to  seyn,  in  youthe  or  elles  age, 

He  moot  ben  deed,  the  king  as  shal  a page ; 

Som  in  his  bed,  som  in  the  depe  see, 

Som  in  the  large  feeld,  as  men  may  se. 

Ther  helpetli  nought,  al  goth  that  ilke  weye. 
Than  may  I seyn  that  al  this  thing  moot  deye. 

6 What  maketh  this  but  Jupiter  the  king, 

The  which  is  prince0  and  cause  of  alle  thing, 
Converting  al  unto  his  propre  welle 
From  which  it  is  derived,  sooth  to  telle  ? 

And  here-agayns  no  creature  on  live 
Of  no  degree  availleth  for  to  strive. 

1 Thanne  is  it  wisdom,  as  it  thinketh  me, 

To  maken  vertu  of  necessitee, 

And  take  it  wel  that  we  may  nat  eschue, 

And  namely  that  to  us  alle  is  due. 

And  whoso  gruccheth  ought,  he  doth  folye, 

And  rebel  is  to  him  that  al  may  gye. 

And  certeynly  a man  hath  most  honour 
To  dyen  in  his  excellence  and  flour, 

Whan  he  is  siker  of  his  gode  name ; 

Than  hath  he  doon  his  freend,  ne  him,  no  shame. 
And  gladder  oughte  his  freend  ben  of  his  deeth, 
Whan  with  honour  up-yolden  is  his  breeth, 


3030 


3035 


3040 


3045 


3050 


124 


THE  KNIGHT7 S TALE 


Than  whan  his  name  appalled  is  for  age; 

For  al  forgeten  is  his  vasselage. 

Than  is  it  best,  as  for  a worthy  fame, 

To  dyen  whan  that  lie  is  best  of  name. 

‘The  contrarie  of  al  this  is  wilfulnesse. 

Why  grucchen  we,  why  have  we  hevinesse, 

That  good  Arcite,  of  chivalrye  flour, 

Departed  is,  with  deutee  and  honour 
Out  of  this  foule  prison  of  this  lyf  ? 

Why  grucchen  heer  his  cosin  and  his  wyf 
Of  his  welfare  that  loved  hem  so  wel  ? 

Can  he  hem  thank0  (nay,  God  woot,  never  a del) 
That  botlie  his  soule  and  eek  hemself  offende, 
And  yet  they  mowe  hir  lustes  nat  amende  ? 

‘ What  may  I conclude  of  this  longe  serie, 

But  after  wo  I rede  us  to  be  merie, 

And  thank en  Jupiter  of  al  his  grace? 

And  er  that  we  departen  from  this  place, 

I rede  that  we  make,  of  sorwes  two, 

O parfit  joye,  lastinge  everemo. 

And  loketh  now,  wher  most  sorwe  is  her-inne, 
Ther  wol  we  first  amenden  and  biginne. 

‘Suster,’  quod  he,  ‘this  is  my  fulle  assent, 
With  al  thavys  here  of  my  parlement, 

That  gentil  Palamon,  your  owene  knight, 


*>55 


3^ 


3065 


30/0 


30?  5 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


125 


That  serveth  yow  with  wille,  herte,  and  might, 

And  evere  hath  doon,  sin  that  ye  first  him  knewe, 
That  ye  shul,  of  youre  grace,  upon  him  rewe,  3080 
And  taken  him  for  housbonde  and  for  lord ; 

Leen  me  youre  hond,  for  this  is  our  accord. 

Lat  see  now  of  your  worn  manly  pitee. 

He  is  a kinges  brother0  sone,  pardee ; 

And,  though  he  were  a povre  bacheler,  3085 

Sin  he  hath  served  yow  so  many  a yeer, 

And  had  for  yow  so  greet  adversitee, 

It  moste  been  considered,  leveth  me ; 

For  gentil  mercy  oughte  to  passen  right.’  0 

Than  seyde  he  thus  to  Palamon  ful  right:  3090 

i I trowe  ther  nedeth  litel  sermoning 
To  make  yow  as  sente  to  this  thing. 

Com  neer,  and  tak  your  lady  by  the  hond.’ 

Betwixen  hem  was  maad  anon  the  bond, 

That  highte  matrimoigne,  or  mariage,  3095 

By  al  the  counseil  and  the  baronage. 

And  thus  with  alle  blisse  and  melodye 
Hath  Palamon  y-wedded  Emelye. 

And  God,  that  al  this  wide  world  hath  wrought, 

Sende  him  his  love  that  hath  it  dere  a-bought.  3100 
For  now  is  Palamon  in  alle  wele, 

Living  in  blisse,  in  richessa  and  in  hele ; 


126 


THE  KNIGHT’S  TALE 


And  Emelye  him  loveth  so  tendrely, 

And  he  hir  serveth  al-so  gentilly, 

That  nevere  was  ther  no  word  hem  bitwene 
Of  jalousye,  or  any  other  tene. 

Thus  endeth  Palamon  and  Emelye ; 

And  God  save  al  this  faire  compaignye ! 


3105 


THE  NUN’S  PRIEST’S  TALE 


This  is  the  Prologe  of  the  Nonnes  Preestes  Tale 

‘ Ho ! ’ quod  the  Knight,  ‘ Good  Sire,  namore  of  this !° 
That  ye  han  seyd  is  right  ynough  y-wis, 

And  muchel  more ; for  litel  hevinesse 

Is  right  ynough  to  muche  folk,  I gesse.  3960 

I seye  for  me  it  is  a greet  disese, 

Where  as  men  han  been  in  greet  welthe  and  ese, 

To  heren  of  hire  sodeyn  fal,  alias ! 

And  the  contrarie  is  joye  and  greet  solas, 

As  whan  a man  hath  ben  in  povre  estaat, 

And  climbeth  up,  and  wexeth  fortunat, 

And  there  abideth  in  prosperitee. 

Swich  thing  is  gladsom,  as  it  thinketh  me, 

And  of  swich  thing  were  goodly  for  to  telle.’ 

‘ Ye/  quod  our  Hoost,  ‘by  Seint  Poules  belle, 

Ye  seye  right  sooth  ! This  Monk  he  clappeth  lowde  ; 
He  spak  how°  “ Fortune  covered  with  a clowde  ” — 

I noot  nevere  what,  and  also  of  a “ Tragedie  ” 

Eight  now  ye  herde.  And,  pardee,  no  remedie 

127 


3965 


3970 


128 


THE  NUN'S  PRIEST'S  TALE 


It  is  for  to  bewaille,  ne  compleyne  3975 

That  that  is  doon ; and  als  it  is  a peyne, 

As  ye  han  seyd,  to  here  of  hevinesse. 

Sire  Monk  ! Namore  of  this,  so  God  yow  blesse! 
Youre  tale  anoyeth  al  this  compaignye. 

Swich  talking  is  not  worth  a boterflye,  3980 

For  ther  inne  is  ther  no  desport  ne  game. 

Wherfore,  Sir  Monk,  Daun  Piers  by  your  name, 

I pray  you  hertely  telle  us  somewhat  elles. 

For  sikerly,  nere  clinking  of  youre  belles 

That  on  youre  bridel  hange  on  every  side,  3985 

By  hevene0  king,  that  for  us  alle  dide, 

I sholde  er  this  han  fallen  doun  for  slepe, 

Although  the  slough  had  never  been  so  depe, 

Thanne  hadde  your  tale  a.l  be  told  in  veyn ; 

For  certeinly  as  that  thise  clerkes  seyn,  3990 

Where  as  a man  may  have  noon  audience, 

Nought  helpeth  it  to  tellen  his  sentence. 

And  wel  I woot  the  substance  is  in  me, 

If  any  thing  shal  wel  reported  be. 

Sir,  sey  somwhat  of  hunting,0  I yow  preye.*  3995 

‘ Nay/  quod  this  Monk,  ‘ I have  no  lust  to  pleye. 
Now  let  another  telle,  as  I have  told.’ 

Thanne  spak  oure  hoost  with  rude  speche  and  bold, 
And  seyde  unto  the  Nonnes  Preest  anon: 


THE  NUN'S  PRIEST'S  TALE 


129 


< Com  neer,  thou  preest,  com  hider,  thou  “ Sir  John ! 
Telle  us  swich  thing  as  may  oure  hertes  glade. 

Be  blithe,  though  thou  ride  upon  a jade. 

What  though  thyn  horse  be  bothe  foul  and  lene  ? 
If  he  wol  serve  thee,  rekke  nat  a bene ; 

Loke  that  thyn  herte  be  murie  everemo.’ 

‘ Yis,  sir,’  quod  he,  ‘yis,  Hoost,  so  moot  I go,0 
But  I be  murie,  y-wis  I wol  be  blamed.’ 

And  right  anon  his  tale  he  hath  attamed, 

And  thus  he  seyde  unto  us  everichon, 

This  swete  preest,  this  goodly  man,  Sir  John. 


4000 


4005 


4010 


THE  NUN’S  PRIEST’S  TALE 


Here  biginneth  the  Nonnes  Preestes  Tale  of  the  Cole  and 
Hen,  Cliauntecleer  and  Pertelote 

A povre  widwe  somdel  stape  in  age, 

Was  whilom  dwelling  in  a narwe  cotage 
Biside  a grove  stondinge  in  a dale. 

This  widwe,  of  which  I telle  yow  my  tale, 

Sin  thilke  day  that  she  was  last  a wyf,  4015 

In  pacience  ladde  a fill  simple  lyf ; 

For  litel  was  hir  catel  and  hir  rente. 

By  housbondrye  of  swich  as  God  hire  sente, 

She  fond  hirself,  and  eek  hire  doughtren  two. 

Three  large  sowes  hadde  she,  and  namo,  4020 

Three  kyn  and  eek  a sheep  that  highte  Malle. 

Ful  soty  was  hir  hour  and  eek  hir  halle,° 

In  which  she  eet  ful  many  a sclendre  meel; 

Of  poynaunt  sauce  hir  neded  never  a deel. 

No  deyntee  morseLpassed  thurgh  hir  throte;  4025 
Hir  diete  was  accordant  to  hir  cote. 

Repleccioun  ne  made  hir  nevere  syk ; 

130 


THE  NUN'S  PRIEST'S  TALE 


131 


Attempre  diete  was  al  hir  phisyk, 

And  exercise,  and  hertes  suffisaunce. 

The  goute  lette  hir  nothing  for  to  daunce,0 
Napoplexye  shente  nat  hir  heed ; 

No  wyn  ne  drank  she,  neither  whyt  ne  reed. 

Hir  bord  was  served  moost  with  whyt  and  blak, 
Milk  and  broun  breed,  in  which  she  fond  no  lak, 
Seynd  bacoun  and  somtime  an  ey  or  tweye ; 

For  she  was  as  it  were  a maner  deye. 

A yerd  she  hadde,  enclosed  al  aboute 
With  stikkes  and  a drye  dich  withoute, 

In  which  she  hadde  a cok,  hight  Chauntecleer. 

In  al  the  land  of  crowing  nas  his  peer. 

His  voys  was  murier  than  the  murie  orgcn 
On  messe-dayes  that  in  the  chirche  gon  ; 

Wei  sikerer  was  his  crowing  in  his  logge, 

Than  is  a clokke,  or  an  abbey  orlogge. 

By  nature  he  knew  ech  ascencioun0 
Of  equinoxial  in  thilke  toun ; 

For  whan  degrees  fiftene  weren  ascended, 

Thanne  crew  he  that  it  mighte  nat  ben  amended. 
His  comb  was  redder  than  the  fyn  coral 
And  batailled  as  it  were  a castel  wal ; 

His  bile  was  blak,  and  as  the  jeet  it  shoon; 

Lyk  asure  were  hise  legges  and  his  toon ; 


403a 


4°35 


404a 


4045 


4050 


132 


THE  NUN’S  PRIEST'S  TALE 


His  nayles  whiter  than  the  lilie  flour, 

And  lyk  the  burned  gold  was  his  colour. 

This  gentil  cok  hadde  in  his  governaunce 
Sevene  hennes  for  to  doon  al  his  plesaunce, 
Whiche  were  hise  sustres  and  his  paramours, 
And  wonder  lyk  to  him,  as  of  colours  ; 

Of  whiche  the  faireste  hewed  on  hir  throte 
Was  cleped  faire  damoysele  Pertelote. 

Ourteys  she  was,  discreet  and  debonaire, 

And  compaignable,  and  bar  hirself  so  faire, 
Sin  thilke  day  that  she  was  seven  night  old, 
That  trewely  she  hath  the  herte  in  hold 
Of  Chauntecleer  loken  in  every  lith ; 

He  loved  hir  so,  that  wel  was  him  therwith. 
But  swich  a joye  was  it  to  here  hem  singe, 
Whan  that  the  brighte  sonne  bigan  to  springe, 
In  swete  accord,  ‘ My  lief  is  faren  in  londe ; ? ° 
Bor  thilke  time,  as  I have  understonde, 

Bestes  and  briddes  coude  speke  and  singe. 

And  so  bifel  that  in  a daweninge, 

As  Chauntecleer  among  hise  wives  alle 
Sat  on  his  perche  that  was  in  the  halle, 

And  next  him  sat  this  faire  Pertelote, 

This  Chauntecleer  gan  gronen  in  his  throte, 

As  man  that  in  his  dreem  is  drecched  sore. 


4055 


4060 


4^65 


407c 


107  5 


THE  HUN’S  PRIEST’S  TALE 


133 


And  whan  that  Pertelote  thus  herde  him  rore, 

She  was  agast,  and  seyde,  ‘ 0 herte  dere, 

What  eyleth  yow,  to  grone  in  this  manere  ? 40S0 

Ye  been  a verray  sleper ; fy,  for  shame0 ! ’ 

And  he  answerde  and  seyde  thus,  ‘ Madame, 

I pray  yow  that  ye  take  it  nat  agrief ; 

By  God,  me  mette  I was  in  swich  meschief 

Bight  now,  that  yet  myn  herte  is  sore  afright.  4085 

Now  God/  quod  he,  ‘my  swevene  recche  aright, 

And  kepe  my  body  out  of  foul  prisoun  ! 

Me  mette  how  that  I romed  up  and  doun 
Withinne  our  yerd,  wher  as  I saugh  a beest 
Was0  lyk  an  hound,  and  wolde  han  maad  areest  4090 
Upon  my  body,  and  wolde  han  had  me  deed. 

His  colour  was  bitwixe  yelow  and  reed  ; 

And  tipped  was  his  tayl  and  bothe  his  eres 
With  blak,  unlyk  the  remenant  of  his  heres ; 

His  snowte  smal,  with  glowing  eyen  tweye.  4095 

Yet  of  his  look  for  fere  almost  I deye  ; 

This  caused  me  my  groning  doutelees.* 

‘ Avoy  ! ’ quod  she,  ‘ fy  on  yow,  hertelees ! 

Allas  ! ’ quod  she,  ‘ for,  by  that  God  above, 

Now  han  ye  lost  myn  herte  and  al  my  love;  4100 

I can  nat  love  a coward,  by  my  feith  ! 

For  certes,  what  so  any  womman  seith, 


134 


THE  NUN'S  PRIEST'S  TALE 


We  alle  desiren,  if  it  mighte  be, 

To  han  housbondes  hardy,  wise,  and  free, 

And  secree,  and  no  nigard,  ne  no  fool,  4105 

Ne  him  that  is  agast  of  every  tool, 

Ne  noon  avauntour.  By  that  God  above  ! 

How  dorste  ye  seyn  for  shame  unto  your  love 
That  any  thing  mighte  make  yow  aferd  ? 

Have  ye  no  mannes  herte,  and  han  a herd  ? 

Allas  ! and  conne  ye  been  agast  of  swevenis  ? 

Nothing,  God  wot,  but  vanitee,  in  sweven  is. 

Swevenes  engendren  of  repleciouns, 

And  ofte  of  fume  and  of  complecciouns, 

Whan  humours  been  to  habundant  in  a wight. 

Certes  this  dreem,  which  ye  han  met  tonight, 

Cometh  of  the  grete  superfluitee 
Of  youre  rede  colera°  pardee, 

Which  causeth  folk  to  dreden  in  hir  dremes 
Of  arwes,  and  of  fire  with  rede  lemes, 

Of  grete  bestes  that  they  wol  hem  bite, 

Of  contek  and  of  whelpes,  grete  and  lite ; 

Right  as  the  humour  of  malencolye 
Causeth  ful  many  a man  in  sleep  to  crye, 

For  fere  of  blake  beres,  or  boles  blake,°  4125 

Or  elles  blake  develes  wole  him  take. 

Of  othere  humours0  coude  I telle  also 


4110 


4115 


4120 


THE  NUN'S  PRIEST'S  TALE 


135 


That  werken  many  a man  in  sleep  ful  wo ; 

But  I wol  passe  as  lightly  as  I can. 

Lo  Catoun,0  which  that  was  so  wys  a man, 
Seyde  he  nat  thus,  “Ne  do  no  fors  of  dremes” 
‘ Now,  sire/  quod  she,  ‘ whan  we  flee  fro  the 
For  Goddes  love,  as  tak°  som  laxatyf ; 

Up  peril  of  my  soule  and  of  my  lyf, 

I counseille  yow  the  beste,  I wol  nat  lye, 

That  bothe  of  eolere  and  of  malencolye 
Ye  purge  yow;  and  for  ye  shal  nat  tarie, 
Though  in  this  toun  is  noon  apothecarie, 

I shal  myself  to  herbes  techen  yow 
That  shul  ben  for  your  hele  and  for  your  prow 
And  in  oure  yerd  tho  herbes  shal  I finde 
The  whiche  han  of  hir  propretee  by  kinde 
To  purgen  yow  binetlie,  and  eek  above. 

Forget  not  this,  for  Goddes  owene  love  ! 

Ye  been  ful  colerik  of  compleceioun ;° 

Ware  the  sonne  in  his  ascencioun 
Ne  finde  yow  nat  repleet  of  humours  hote. 

And  if  it  do,  I dar  wel  leye  a grote, 

That  ye  shul  have  a fevere  terciane, 

Or  an  agu,  that  may  be  youre  bane. 

A day  or  two  ye  shul  have  digestives 
Of  wormes,  er  ye  take  youre  laxatives 


413° 

?° 

bemes, 

4135 


; 4140 


4145 


4150 


136 


THE  NUN'S  PRIEST'S  TALE 


Of  lauriol,  centaure,  and  fumetere, 

Or  elles  of  ellebor  that  groweth  there, 

Of  catapuce  or  of  gaytres  beryis,  4155 

Of  erbe  ive  growing  in  our  yerd  ther  mery°  is; 

Pekke  hem  up  right  as  they  growe  and  ete  hem  in. 

Be  mirie,  housbonde,  for  youre  fader  kin ! 

Dredeth  no  dreem  ; I can  say  yow  namore.’ 

‘ Madame/  quod  he, 6 graunt  mercy 0 of  youre  lore.  4160 
But  natheles,  as  touching  daun  Catoun, 

That  hath  of  wisdom  swich  a greet  renoun, 

Though  that  he  bad  no  dremes  for  to  drede, 

By  God,  men  may  in  olde  bokes  rede 

Of  many  a man,  more  of  auctoritee  4165 

Than  ever  Catouu  was,  so  moot  I thee, 

That  al  the  revers  seyn  of  this  sentence, 

And  han  well  founden  by  experience 
That  dremes  ben  significaciouns 

As  wel  of  joye  as  of  tribulaciouns  4170 

That  folk  enduren  in  this  lyf  present. 

Ther  nedeth  make  of  this  noon  argument ;° 

The  verray  preve  sheweth  it  in  dede. 

‘ Oon  of  the  gretteste  auctour0  that  men  rede 
Seith  thus,  that  whilom  two  felawes  wente  4175 

On  pilgrimage,  in  a ful  good  entente ; 

And  happed0  so  they  comen  in  a toun, 


THE  NUN'S  PRIEST'S  TALE 


Wher  as  ther  was  swich  congregacioun 
Of  peple,  and  eek  so  streit0  of  lierbergage, 
That  they  ne  founde  as  muche  as  o cotage 
In  which  they  bothe  mighte  y-logged  be. 
Wherfore  they  mosten  of  necessitee, 

As  for  that  night,  departen  compaignye ; 
And  ech  of  hem  goth  to  his  hostelry  e, 

And  took  his  logging  as  it  wolde  falle.° 
That  oon  of  hem  was  logged  in  a stalle, 

Fer  in  a yerd,  with  oxen  of  the  plough ; 
That  other  man  was  logged  well  ynough, 

As  was  his  aventure  or  his  fortune, 

That  us  governetli  alle  as  in  commune.0 

‘ And  so  bifel  that  long  er  it  were0  day, 
This  man  mette  in  his  bed,  ther  as  he  lay, 
How  that  his  felawe  gan  upon  him  calle, 
And  seyde,  “ Allas  ! for  in  an  oxes  stalle 
This  night  I shal  be  mordred  ther  I lye. 
Now  help  me,  dere  brother,  or  I dye; 

In  alle  haste  com  to  me ! ” he  sayde. 

This  man  out  of  his  sleep  for  fere  abrayde; 
But  whan  that  he  was  wakened  of  his  sleep, 
He  turned  him  and  took  of  this  no  keep ; 
Him  thoughte  his  dreem  nas  but  a vanitee. 
Thus  twyes  in  his  sleping  dremed  he. 


138 


THE  NUN'S  PRIEST'S  TALE 


And  atte  thridde  time  yet  his  felawe 
Cam,  as  him  thoughte,  and  seyde,  “ I am  now  slawe ! 
Bihold  my  blody  woundes,  depe  and  wide ! 4205 

Arys  up  erly  in  the  morwe-tide, 

And  at  the  west  gate  of  the  toun,”  quod  he, 

“ A carte  ful  of  donge  ther  shaltow  see, 

In  which  my  body  is  hid  ful  prively ; 

Do°  thilke  carte  arresten  boldely.  4210 

My  gold  caused  my  mordre,  sooth  to  sayn ; ” 

And  tolde  him  every  poynt  how  he  was  slayn, 

With  a ful  pitous  face,  pale  of  hewe. 

And  truste  wel,  his  dreem  he  fond  ful  trewe ; 

For  on  the  morwe,  as  sone  as  it  was  day,  4215 

To  his  felawes  in  he  took  the  way; 

And  whan  that  he  cam  to  this  oxes  stalle, 

After  his  felawe  he  bigan  to  calle. 

‘ The  hostiler  answerede  him  anon 
And  seyde,  “ Sire,  your  felawe  is  agon  ; 4220 

As  sone  as  day  he  wente  out  of  the  toun.” 

6 This  man  gan  fallen  in  suspecioun,0 
Bemembring  on  his  dremes  that  he  mette, 

And  forth  he  goth,  no  lenger  wolde  he  lette, 

Unto  the  west  gate  of  the  toun,  and  fond  4225 

A dong-carte,  as  it  were  to  donge  lond, 

That  was  arrayed  in  that  same  wise 


THE  NUN'S  PRIEST'S  TALE 


139 


As  ye  han  herd  the  dede  man  devise. 

And  with  an  hardy  herte  he  gan  to  crye 
Yengeaunce  and  justice  of  this  felonye  : — 

“ My  felawe  mordred  is  this  same  night, 

And  in  this  carte  he  lith  gaping  upright. 

I crye  out  on  the  ministres,”  quod  he, 

“ That  sholden  kepe  and  reulen  this  citee ; 

Harrow ! alias  ! here  lith  my  felawe  slayn  ! " 
What  sholde  I more  unto  this  tale  sayn  ? 

The  peple  out-sterte  and  caste  the  cart  to  grounde, 
And  in  the  middel  of  the  dong  they  founde 
The  dede  man  that  mordred  was  al  newe. 

‘ 0 blisful  God,  that  art  so  just  and  trewe ! 

Lo,  how  that  thou  biwreyest  mordre  alway ! 
Mordre  wol  out,  that  se  we  day  by  day. 

Mordre  is  so  wlatsom  and  abhominable 
To  God,  that  is  so  just  and  resonable, 

That  he  ne  wol  nat  suffre  it  heled  be ; 

Though  it  abide  a yeer,  or  two,  or  three. 

Mordre  wol  out,  this  my  conclusioun. 

And  right  anoon,  ministres  of  that  toun 
Han  hent  the  carter,  and  so  sore  him  pined, 

And  eek  the  hostiler  so  sore  engined, 

That  thay  biknewe  hir  wikkednesse  anoon, 

And  were  anhanged  by  the  nekke-boon. 


4230 


4235 


4240 


4245 


4250 


140 


THE  NUN’S  PRIEST’S  TALE 


‘ Here  may  men  seen  that  dreines  been  to  drede. 

And  certes  in  the  same  book  I rede, 

Right  in  the  nexte  chapitre  after  this,  4255 

(I  gabbe  nat,  so  have  I joy  or  blis) 

Two  men  that  wolde  han  passed  over  see 
For  certeyn  cause  into  a fer  contree, 

If  that  the  wind  ne  hadde  been  contrarie, 

That  made  hem  in  a citee  for  to  tarie  4260 

That  stood  ful  mery  upon  an  haven-side. 

But  on  a day  agayn  the  eventide 

The  wind  gan  chaunge,  and  blew  right  as  hem  leste. 

Jolif  and  glad  they  went  unto  hir  reste, 

And  casten  hem  ful  erly  for  to  saille.  4265 

‘ But  herkneth ! to  that  00  man  fel  a greet  mervaille  ! 
That  oon  of  hem,  in  sleping  as  he  lay, 

Him  mette°  a wonder  dreem  agayn  the  day° ; 

Him  thoughte  a man  stood  by  his  beddes  side, 

And  him  comaunded  that  he  sholde  abide,  4270 

And  seyde  him  thus,  “ If  thou  tom  or  we  wende, 

Thou  shalt  be  dreynt. ; my  tale  is  at  an  ende.” 

He  wook,  and  tolde  his  felawe  what  he  mette, 

And  preyde  him  his  viage  for  to  lette ; 

As  for  that  day,  he  preyde  him  to  bide.  4275 

His  felawe,  that  lay  by  his  beddes  side, 

Gan  for  to  laughe,  and  scorned  him  ful  faste. 


THE  NUN’S  PRIEST’S  TALE 


141 


“No  dreem,”  quod  he,  “may  so  inyn  herte  agaste, 
That  I wol  lette  for  to  do  my  tliinges. 

I sette  not  a straw  by  thy  dreminges, 

For  swevenes  been  but  vanitees  and  japes. 

Men  dreme  al  day  of  owles  or  of  apes 
And  of  many  a maze  therwithal; 

Men  dreme  of  thing  that  nevere  was  ne  shal. 

But  sith  I see  that  thou  wolt  here  abide, 

And  thus  forslewthen  wilfully  thy  tide, 

God  wot  it  reweth  me ; and  have  good  day  ! ” 

And  thus  he  took  his  leve  and  wente  his  way. 

But  er  that  he  hadde  halfe  his  cours’y-seyled, 
Noot  1 nat  why  ne  what  mischaunce  it  eyled, 

But  casuelly  the  sliippes  botme  rente, 

And  ship  and  man  under  the  water  wente 
In  sighte  of  othere  shippes  it  beside, 

That  with  hem  seyled  at  the  same  tide.0 

‘ And  therfor,  faire  Bertel ote  so  dere, 

By  swiche  ensamples  olde  maistow  lere, 

That  no  man  sholde  been  to  reccheiees 
Of  dremes ; for  I seye  thee  doutelees, 

That  many  a dreem  ful  sore  is  for  to  drede. 

‘Lo,  in  the  lyf  of  seynt  Kenelm,  I rede, 

That  was  Kenulphus  sone,  the  noble  king 
Of  Mercenrike,  how  Kenelm  mette  a thing 


4280 


4285 


4290 


4295 


4300 


142 


THE  NUN'S  PRIEST1  S TALE 


A lite  er  he  was  mordred,  on  a day 
His  mordre  in  his  avisionn  he  say. 

His  norice  him  expouned  every  deel 
His  swevene,  and  bad  him  for  to  kepe  him  weel 
For  traisoun0 ; but  he  nas  but  seven  yeer  old. 
And  therfore  litel  tale  hath  he  told 
Of  any  dreem,  so  holy  was  his  herte. 

By  God,  I hadde  levere  than  my  sherte 
That  ye  hadde  rad  his  legende,  as  have  I. 

Dame  Pertelote,  I say  yow  trewely, 

Macrobeus,  that  writ  the  avisioun 
In  Affrike  of  the  worthy  Cipioun, 

Affermeth  dremes,  and  seith  that  they  been 
Warninge  of  thinges  that  men  after  seen. 

And  forthermore,  I pray  yow  loketh  wel 
In  the  Olde  Testament,  of  Daniel, 

If  he  held  dremes  any  vanitee. 

Eeed  eek  of  Joseph,  and  ther  shul  ye  see 
Wher  dremes  ben  somtime,  I sey  nat  alle, 
Warninge  of  thinges  that  shul  after  falle. 

Loke  of  Egipte  the  king,  daun  Pharao, 

His  bakere  and  his  boteler  also, 

Wher  they  ne  felte  noon  effect  in  dremes. 

Who  so  wol  seken  actes  of  sondry  remes, 

May  rede  of  dremes  many  a wonder  thing. 


43°5 


4310 


4315 


432° 


4325 


THE  NUN’S  PRIEST’S  TALE 


143 


‘ Lo  Cresns,  which  that  was  of  Lyde  king, 
Mette  he  nat  that  he  sat  upon  a tree, 

Which  signifyed  he  sholde  anhanged  be  ? 

Lo  here  Andromacha,  Ectores  wyf, 

That  day  that  Ector  sholde  lese  his  lyf, 

She  dremed  on  the  same  night  biforn, 

How  that  the  lyf  of  Ector  sholde  be  lorn, 

If  thilke  day  he  wente  into  bataille. 

She  warned  him,  but  it  mighte  nat  availle ; 

He  wente  for  to  fighte  natheles, 

But  he  was  slayn  anoon  of  Achilles. 

But  thilke  tale  is  al  to  long  to  telle, 

And  eek  it  is  ny  day,  I may  nat  dwelle. 

Shortly  I seye,  as  for  conclusioun, 

That  I shal  han  of  this  avisioun 
Adversitee  ; and  I seye  forthermore, 

That  I ne  telle  of  laxatives  no  store,0 
For  they  ben  venimes,  I woot  it  wel ; 

I hem  defye,  I love  hem  never  a del. 

‘Now  let  us  speke  of  mirthe,  and  stinte  al  this. 
Madame  Pertelote,  so  have  I blis, 

Of  o thing  God  hath  sent  me  large  grace ; 

For  whan  I see  the  beautee  of  youre  face, 

Ye  been  so  scarlet-reed  about  youre  yen, 

It  maketh  al  my  drede  for  to  dyen  5 


433° 


4335 


4340 


4345 


4350 


144 


THE  NUN'S  PRIEST'S  TALE 


For,  also  siker  as  In  principio , 

Midier  est  hominis  confusio0  ; 

Madame,  the  sentence  of  this  Latin  is  — 

“ Womman  is  man  lies  joye  and  al  his  blis.” 

* * * * * * # 

I am  so  ful  of  joye  and  of  solas 

That  I defye  bothe  swevene  and  dreein/ 

And  with  that  word  he  fley  donn  fro  the  beem, 
Tor  it  was  day,  and  eek  hise  hennes  alle. 

And  with  a chuk  he  gan  hem  for  to  calle, 

For  he  hadde  founde  a corn0  lay  in  the  yerd. 
Royal  he  was,  he  was  naniore  aferd ; 

* * * * # * * 

He  loketh  as  it  were  a grim  leoun ; 

And  on  his  toos  he  rometh  up  and  doun, 

Him  deyned  not  to  sette  his  foot  to  grounde. 

He  chukketh  whan  he  hath  a corn  y-founde, 

And  to  him  rennen  thanne  hise  wives  alle. 

Thus  royal  as  a prince  is  in  his  halle, 

Leve  I this  Chauntecleer  in  his  pasture ; 

And  after  wol  I telle  his  aventure. 

Whan  that  the  month  in  which  the  world  bigan, 
That  highte  March,  whan  God  first  maked  man,° 
Was  compleet,  and  passed  were  also 
(Sin  March  bigan)°  thritty  dayes  and  two, 


4355 


4360 


4365 


437o 


4375 


4380 


TIIE  NUN'S  PRIEST'S  TALE 


145 


Bifel  that  Chauntecleer,  in  al  his  pride, 

His  seven  wives  walkinge  by  his  side, 

Caste  up  his  eyen  to  the  briglite  sonne, 

That  in  the  signe  of  Taurus  hadde  y-ronne 
Twenty  degrees  and  oon,  and  somewhat  more, 
And  knew  by  kinde,  and  by  noon  other  lore, 

That  it  was  prime,  and  crew  with  blisful  stevene. 
6 The  sonne/  he  sayde,  ‘ is  clomben  up  on  hevene 
Fourty  degrees  and  oon,  and  more  y-wis. 

Madame  Pertelote,  my  worldes  blis, 

Herkneth  thise  blisful  briddes  how  they  singe, 
And  se  the  freshe  floures  how  they  springe ; 

Ful  is  myn  hert  of  revel  and  solas ! ’ 

But  sodeynly  him  fil  a sorweful  cas; 

For  ‘ever  the  latter  ende  of  joye  is  wo.’ 

Got  woot  that  worldly  joye  is  sone  ago; 

And  if  a rethor0  coude  faire  endite, 

He  in  a cronicle  saufly  mighte  it  write, 

As  for  a sovereyn  notabilitee. 

Now  every  wys  man,  lat  him  herkne  me; 

This  storie  is  al  so  trewe,°  I undertake, 

As  is  the  book  of  Launcelot  de  Lake, 

That  wommen  holde  in  ful  greet  reverence. 

Now  wol  I torne  agayn  to  my  sentence. 

A colfox  ful  of  sly  iniquitee 

L 


4385 


4390 


4395 


4400 


4405 


146 


THE  NUN'S  PRIEST'S  TALE 


That  in  the  grove  hadde  woned  yeres  three, 
By  heigh  imaginacioun.forn-cast,° 

The  same  night  thurghout  the  hegges  brast 
Into  the  yerd  ther  Chauntecleer  the  faire 
Was  wont,  and  eek  his  wives,  to  repaire. 

And  in  a bed  of  wortes  stille  he  lay, 

Til  it  was  passed  nndern  of  the  day, 

Waitinge  his  time  on  Chauntecleer  to  falle; 
As  gladly  doon  thise  homicides  alle 
That  in  await  liggen  to  mordre  men. 

0 false  mordrour  lurkinge  in  thy  den ! 

0 newe  Scariot,  newe  Genilon ! 

False  dissimilour,  0 Greek  Sinon, 

That  broughtest  Troye  al  outrely  to  sorwe ! 

0 Chauntecleer,  accursed  be  that  morwe, 

That  thou  into  that  yerd  fleigh  fro  the  bemes ! 
Thou  were  ful  wel  y-warned  by  thy  dremes, 
That  thilke  day  was  perilous  to  thee. 

But  what  that  God  forwoot  moot  nedes  be,° 
After  the  opinioun  of  certeyn  clerkis. 
Witnesse  on  him,  that  any  parfit  clerk  is, 

That  in  scole  is  greet  altercacioun 
In  this  matere,  and  greet  disputisoun, 

And  hath  ben  of  an  hundred  thousand  men. 
But  I ne  can  not  bulte  it  to  the  bren,° 


4410 


4415 


4420 


4425 


443° 


THE  NUN'S  PRIEST'S  TALE 


147 


As  can  the  holy  doctour  Angustyn, 

Or  Boece,  or  the  bishop  Bradwardyn, 

Whether  that  Goddes  worthy  forwiting0 
Streyneth  me  nedely  for  to  doon  a thing, 

(Nedely  clepe  I simple  necessitee), 

Or  elles  if  free  choys  be  graunted  me 
To  do  that  same  thing,  or  do  it  nought, 

Though  God  forwoot  it  er  that  it  was  wrought ; 
Or  if  his  witing  streyneth  never  a deel 
But  by  necessitee  condicionel. 

I wil  not  han  to  do  of  swich  matere ; 

My  tale  is  of  a cok,  as  ye  may  here, 

That  took  his  counseil  of  his  wyf,  with  sorwe, 
To  walken  in  the  yerd  upon  that  morwe 
That  he  hadde  met  the  dreem  that  I you  tolde. 

6 Wommennes  counseils  been  ful  ofte  colde  ’ ; 
Wommannes  counseil  broughte  us  first  to  wo, 
And  made  Adam  fro  Paradys  to  go, 

Ther  as  he  was  ful  mirie  and  wel  at  ese. 

But  for  I noot,  to  whom  it  might  displese, 

If  I counseil  of  womraen  wolde  blame, 

Passe  over,  for  I seyde  it  in  my  game. 

Bede  auctours,  wher  they  trete  of  swich  matere, 
And  what  thay  seyn  of  wommen  ye  may  here. 
Thise  been  the  cokke3  wordes  and  nat  mine ; 


4435 


4440 


4445 


445° 


4455 


148 


THE  NUN'S  PRIEST'S  TALE 


I can  noon  harme  of  no  womman  divine. 

Faire  in  the  sond,  to  bathe  hire  mirily, 

Lith  Pertelote,  and  alle  hir  sustres  by, 

Agayn  the  sonne ; and  Chauntecleer  so  free 
Song  murier  than  the  mermayde  in  the  see 
(For  Phisiologus  seith  sikerly, 

Plow  that  they  singen  wel  and  merily). 

And  so  bifel  that  as  he  caste  his  ye 
Among  the  wortes,  on  a boterflye, 

He  was  war  of  this  fox  that  lay  ful  lowe. 
Nothing  ne  liste  him  thanne  for  to  crowe, 

But  cride  anon,  c Cok ! Cok  ! ? and  up  he  sterte, 
As  man  that  wa*j  affrayed  in  his  herte. 

For  naturelly  a beest  desireth  flee 
Fro  his  contrarie,  if  he  ma}^  it  see, 

Though  he  never  erst  hadde  seyn  it  with  his  ye. 

This  Chauntecleer,  whan  he  gan  him  espye, 
He  wolde  han  fled,  but  that  the  fox  anon 
Seyde,  ‘ Gentil  Sire,  alias  ! wher  wol  ye  gon  ? 

Be  ye  affrayed  of  me  that  am  youre  freend  ? 
Now,  certes,  I were  worse  than  a feend, 

If  I to  yow  wolde  harm  or  vileinye. 

I am  nat  come  your  counseil  for  tespye ; 

But  trewely  the  cause  of  my  cominge 
Was  only  for  to  herkne  how  that  ye  singe. 


4460 


4465 


4470 


4475 


4480 


THE  NUN'S  PRIEST'S  TALE 


149 


For  trewely  ye  have  as  mirie  a stevene 
As  eny  aungel  hath,  that  is  in  hevene. 

Therwith  ye  han  in  musik  more  felinge 
Than  hadde  Boece,  or  any  that  can  singe. 

My  lord  youre  fader  (God  his  soule  blesse  !)  4485 

And  eek  your  moder,  of  hire  gentilesse, 

Han  in  myn  hous  y-been  to  my  gret  ese  ;° 

And  certes,  sire,  ful  fayn  wolde  I yow  plese. 

But  for  men  speke  of  singing,  I wol  saye, 

So  mote  I brouke  wel  myn  eyen  tweye,  4490 

Save  yow,  I herde  nevere  man  so  singe, 

As  dide  your  fader  in  the  morweninge. 

Certes,  it  was  of  herte,°  al  that  he  song ; 

And  for  to  make  his  voys  the  more  strong, 

He  wolde  so  peyne  him,  that  with  both  his  yen  4495 
He  moste  winke,  so  loude  he  wolde  cryen, 

And  s ton  den  on  his  tiptoon  ther  withal, 

And  strecohe  forth  his  nekke,  long  and  smal. 

And  eek  he  was  of  swich  discrecioun 
That  ther  nas  no  man  in  no  regioun 
That  him  in  song  or  wisdom  mighte  passe. 

I have  weel  rad  in  “ Daun  Burnel  the  Asse,;? 

Among  his  vers,  how  that  ther  was  a cok, 

For  that  a preestes  sone  yaf  him  a knok 
Upon  his  leg  whyl  he  was  yong  and  nice, 


45°5 


150 


THE  NUN'S  PRIEST'S  TALE 


He  made  him  for  to  lese  his  benefice.0 
But  certeyn,  ther  nis  no  comparisoun0 
Bitwix  the  wisdom  and  discrecioun 
Of  youre  fader,  and  of  his  subtiltee. 

Now  singeth,  sire,  for  seynte  charitee; 

Lat  se  conne  ye  youre  fader  countrefete.* 

This  Chauntecleer  his  winges  gan  to  bete, 
As  man0  that  coude  his  traysoun  nat  espye, 

So  was  he  ravished  with  his  flaterye. 

Allas  ! ye  lordes,  many  a fals  flatour 
Is  in  your  courtes,  and  many  a losengeour, 
That  plesen  yow  wel  more,  by  my  feith, 

Than  he  that  soothfastnesse  unto  yow  seith 
(Bedeth  Ecclesiaste  6 Of  Flatterye  ?),° 

Beth  war,  ye  lordes,  of  hir  trecherye. 

This  Chauntecleer  stood  hye  upon  his  toos, 
Streccliing  his  nekke,  and  held  his  eyen  cloos, 
And  gan  to  crowe  loude  for  the  nones. 

And  daun  Bussel  the  fox  sterte  up  at  ones, 
And  by  the  gargat  hente  Chauntecleer, 

And  on  his  bak  toward  the  wode  him  beer, 
For  yet  ne  was  ther  no  man  that  him  sewed. 

0 destinee,  that  mayst  nat  been  eschewed  ! 
Allas,  that  Chauntecleer  fleigh  fro  the  bemes ! 
Allas,  his  wyf  ne  roughte  nat  of  dremes ! 


4510 


45*5 


4520 


4525 


453° 


THE  N UN'S  PRIEST'S  TALE 


151 


And  on  a Friday  fil  al  this  mesehaunce ! 

0 Venus,  that  art  goddesse  of  plesaunce, 

Sin  that  thy  servant  was  this  Chauntecleer, 

And  in  thy  service  dide  al  his  poweer, 
******* 

Why  woltestow  suffre  him  on  thy  day  to  dye  ? 

0 Gaufred,  dere  mayster  soverayn, 

That,  whan  thy  worthy  king  Richard  was  slayn 
With  shot,  coinpleynedest  his  deeth  so  sore ! 

Why  ne  hadde  I now  thy  sentence  and  thy  lore, 
The  Friday  f er  to  chide,  as  diden  ye  ? 

(For  on  a Friday  soothly  slayn  was  he) 

Than  wolde  I shewe  yow  how  that  I coude  pleyne 
For  Chauntecleres  drede  and  for  his  peyne. 

Certes,  swich  cry  ne  lamentacioun0 
Was  nevere  of  ladies  maad,  whan  Ilioun 
Was  wonne,  and  Pirrus  with  his  streite  swerd, 
Whan  he  hadde  hent  king  Priam  by  the  berd 
And  slayn  him  (as  saith  us  Eneydos),0 
As  maden  alle  the  hennes  in  the  clos, 

Whan  they  had  seyn  of  Chauntecleer  the  sighte. 
But  sovereynly  dame  Pertelote  shrighte 
Ful  louder  than  dide  Hasdrubales  wyf ; 

Whan  that  hir  housbonde  hadde  lost  his  lyf, 

And  that  the  Romayns  hadde  brent  Cartage, 


4540 


4545 


4550 


4555 


152 


THE  NUN’S  PRIEST’S  TALE 


She  was  so  ful  of  torment  and  of  rage, 

That  wilfully  into  the  fyr  she  sterte, 

And  brende  hirselven  with  a stedfast  herte. 

0 woful  hennes,  right  so  criden  ye, 

As,  whan  that  Nero  brende  the  citee 
Of  Rome,  criden  the  senatoures  wives, 

For  that  hir  housbondes  losten  alle  hir  lives  ; 
Withouten  gilt  this  Nero  hath  hem  slayn. 

Now  wol  I torne  to  my  tale  agayn. 

This  sely  widwe  and  eek  hir  doughtres  two 
Herden  thise  hennes  crye  and  maken  wo, 

And  out  at  dores  sterten  they  anoon, 

And  seyen  the  fox  toward  the  grove  goon, 

And  bar  upon  his  bak  the  cok  away ; 

And  criden,  c Out ! ’ ‘ Harrow  ! ? and  ‘ Weylaway  ! 
< Ha/  ‘ ha/  ‘ The  fox  ! ’ and  after  him  they  ran, 
And  eek  with  staves  many  another0  man ; 

Ranne  Colie  our  dogge,  and  Talbot,  and  Gerland, 
And  Malkin,  with  a distaf  in  hir  hand; 

Ran  cow  and  calf ; and  eek  the  verray  hogges, 

So  fered  for  berkinge  of  the  dogges 
And  shouting  of  the  men  and  wommen  eke, 

They  ronne  so,  hem  thoughte  hir  herte  breke ; 
They  yelleden  as  feendes  doon  in  helle. 

The  dokes  criden  as  men  wolde  hem  quelle ; 


456° 


4565 


4570 


4575 


458n 


THE  NUN’S  PRIEST’S  TALE 


153 


The  gees  for  fere  flowen  over  the  trees ; 

Out  of  the  hive  cam  the  swarm  of  bees. 

So  hidous  was  the  noys,  A ! benedicite  ! 

Certes,  he  Jakke  Straw,0  and  his  meynee, 

]STe  made  nevere  slioutes  half  so  shrille,  4585 

Whan  that  they  wolden  any  Fleming0  kille, 

As  thilke  day  was  maad  upon  the  fox. 

Of  bras  they  broughten  bemes,  and  of  box, 

Of  horn,  of  boon,  in  whiche  they  blewe  and  pouped, 
And  therwithal  thay  shriked  and  they  houped,  4590 
It  seined  as  that  hevene  sholde  falle. 

How,  gode  men,  I pray  yow  herkneth  alle  ! 

Lo,  how  fortune  turnetli  sodeynly 
The  hope  and  pride  eek  of  hir  enemy  ! 

This  cok,  that  lay  upon  the  foxes  bak, 

In  al  his  drede,  unto  the  fox  he  spak, 

And  seyde,  6 Sire,  if  that  I were  as  ye, 

Yet  sholde  I seyn,  as  wys  God  helpe  me, 

“ Turneth  agayn,  ye  proude  cherles  alle  ! 

A verray  pestilence  upon  yow  falle! 

How  am  I come  unto  this  wodes  side, 

Maugree  your  heed  the  cok  shal  heer  abide ; 

I wol  him  ete  in  feith,  and  that  anon ! ” ’ 

The  fox  answerde,  ‘ In  feith,  it  shal  be  don/ 

And  as  he  spak  that  word,  al  sodeynly 


4595 


4600 


4605 


154 


THE  NUN’S  PRIEST’S  TALE 


This  cok  brak  from  his  mouth  deliverly, 

And  heighe  upon  a tree  he  fleigh  anon. 

And  whan  the  fox  saugh  that  he  was  gon, 

‘ Allas  ! ’ quod  he,  ‘ 0 Chauntecleer,  alias  ! 

I have  to  yow,’  quod  he,  ‘ y-doon  trespas,  4610 

In-as-muche  as  I maked  yow  aferd, 

Whan  I yow  hente  and  broughte  out  of  the  yerd. 

But,  sire,  I dide  it  in  no  wikke  entente ; 

Com  doun,  and  I shal  telle  yow  what  I mente ; 

I shal  seye  sooth  to  yow,  God  help  me  so.’  4615 

‘Nay,  thanne,’  quod  he,  ‘ I shrewe  us  bothe  two, 
And  first  I shrewe  myself,  bothe  blood  and  bones, 

If  thou  bigile  me  ofter  than  ones. 

Thou  shalt  namore  thurgh  thy  flaterye 

Do  me  to  singe  and  winken  with  myn  ye.  4620 

For  he  that  winketh  whan  he  sholde  see, 

A1  wilfully,  God  lat  him  nevere  thee  ! ’ 

‘Nay/  quod  the  fox,  ‘but  Godyive  him  meschaunce, 
That  is  so  undiscreet  of  governaunce, 

That  jangleth  whan  he  sholde  holde  his  pees.’  4625 
Lo,  swich  it  is  for  to  be  recchelees, 

And  necligent,  and  truste  on  flaterye. 

But  ye  that  holden  this  tale  a folye, 

As  of  a fox,  or  of  a cok  and  hen, 

Taketh  the  moralitee,  gode  men ; 4630 


THE  NUN’S  PRIEST’S  TALE 


155 


For  Seynt  Paul  seith,  that  al  that  writen  is, 

To  our  doctrine  it  is  y-write  y-wis. 

Taketh  the  fruyt  and  lat  the  chaf  be  stille. 

Now,  gode  God,  if  that  it  be  thy  wille, 

As  seith  my  lord,0  so  make  us  alle  gode  men,  4635 
And  bringe  us  alle  to  his  heighe  blisse ! Amen. 


READING  ALOUD 


The  rules  given  below  may  enable  one  to  read  the 
verses  with  some  approach  to  the  usage  of  certain 
Cliaucerians,  if  not  to  that  of  Chaucer  himself.  The 
reader’s  idea  of  the  sounds  and  the  verse  will  affect 
the  reception  which  attempts  to  read  Chaucer  aloud 
will  encounter ; but  the  acceptability  of  reading  de- 
pends in  a greater  degree  on  quality  of  voice  and 
appreciation  of  meaning.  Nor  will  all  these  avail 
unless  one  practises  reading  to  others  and  for  others. 

To  begin  with  the  first  line  of  the  Prologue : — 

Line  1.  wh  should  be  pronounced  like  wh  in  wheel , not 
like  w in  weal. 

a , when  not  ending  a syllable,  more  like  a in  what 
than  a in  cat ; but  it  is  sometimes  written  for 
aa  (< a in  father ). 

^ as  now  ; but  see  nn  and  ng. 

th  as  in  Modern  English. 

t always  like  t in  tail , bat , fact ; never  like  t in 
nation. 

a,  when  ending  a syllable,  like  a in  father ; but 
sometimes  shorter. 


157 


158 


READING  ALOUD 


p as  now. 

r should  always  be  trilled,  and  should  never  sug- 
gest the  sound,  or  rather  absence  of  sound,  of 
either  r in  river. 

i has  the  sound  of  i in  still , pin,  flint , when  it  stands 
before  two  consonants. 

I as  now;  but  ll  denotes*  either  a lengthening  or 
doubling  of  the  sound. 

e final  is  like  a in  Cuba , or  blends  with  a follow- 
ing vowel,  or  is  silent,  just  as  the  verse  requires. 
We  might  accordingly  print  it  when  sounded,  and 
omit  it  when  silent,  if  tastes  and  authorities  agreed. 
w initial  as  now. 

h initial  just  as  at  present.  It  may  be  sounded  in  all 
cases ; but  after  much  reading  one  comes  to  drop  it 
in  some  common  unaccented  words  : I’ve  seen  ’ im . 
s final  like  ss  in  hiss, 
sh  as  at  present. 
on  (pw)  like  oo  in  pool. 

e,  not  ending  a syllable,  like  e in  set ; but  it  is 
sometimes  written  for  ee  (< ai  in  pair), 
o,  ending  a syllable  ( so-te ),  like  the  first  part  pro- 
longed of  the  diphthong  o in  so,  tone,  lone. 

Line  2.  d as  our  d. 

gh  as  the  Scotch  pronounce  ch  in  loch, 
o,  when  not  ending  a syllable,  like  o in  cot ; but  it 
is  sometimes  written  for  oo. 


READING  ALOUD 


159 


/ like  jf  in  off \ never  like  v. 
m as  now. 

ch  {celt)  like  ch  in  church . 
c always  like  c in  codicil , never  our  sh. 

Line  3.  b as  now. 
v as  now. 
ey  like  i in  thine. 

Line  4.  u,  ending  a syllable,  like  the  French  u,  which 
resembles  u in  use  rather  than  in  brute, 
g like  its  representatives  in  the  corresponding 
modern  English  words. 

Line  5.  z as  now. 
ph  like  fin  Jill. 

u not  ending  a syllable,  like  u in  pull, 
ee  like  the  first  part  of  the  diphthong  a in  fate  pro- 
longed. 

e,  ending  a stressed  syllable,  like  the  preceding. 
Line  6.  i (y),  ending  a stressed  syllable,  like  i in  ma- 
chine. 

y consonant  as  now. 

ng  as  in  the  corresponding  modern  words. 
nn  indicates  a lengthening,  or  doubling,  of  the 
sound. 

Line  9.  k as  now. 

Line  12.  oo  as  o in  Chaucer’s  so-te. 

Line  13.  au  like  ou  in  count. 

Line  19.  ay  like  i in  mine. 

Line  24.  gn  nearly  like  n. 


160 


READING  ALOUD 


Consonants  are  pronounced  with  the  following  vowel, 
if  possible. 

Every  letter  is  pronounced ; thus  l is  sounded  in 
folk , palmeres , walk , and  k in  knight , knowe.  There  are, 
however,  certain  groups,  like  sh,  ng , which  are  treated 
as  single  signs.  Some  readers  often  omit  a vowel,  par- 
ticularly e.  Benedicite  is  pronounced  ben’dic’te. 

Even  if  one  did  not  know  the  meaning  of  a single 
word,  the  preceding  directions  would  be  sufficient  for 
reading  the  text  aloud,  so  far  as  the  sounds  of  the  letters 
are  concerned  ; but  there  is  much  more  in  reading  than 
the  mere  sequence  of  the  sounds  of  the  letters.  A let- 
ter on  the  page  is  a direction  to  make  some  vowel  or 
consonant  sound.  Let  me  call  the  sequence  of  these 
sounds  that  corresponds  to  the  succession  of  the  letters 
the  vowel-consonant  series.  But  one  cannot  utter  this 
series  without  giving  to  each  sound  in  it  certain  qual- 
ities that  are  rarely  indicated  by  anything  on  the  printed 
page.  We  can  give  to  the  sound  a longer  or  shorter 
duration,  can  say  it  in  a higher  or  a lower  note,  can  speak 
it  in  a louder  or  softer  tone.  There  exist  in  constant 
association  with  the  vowel-consonant  series,  and  with 
one  another,  three  other  series : the  long-short  series, 
the  high-low  series,  the  loud-soft  series.  There  are,  too, 
pauses  which  we  regard  as  parts  of  the  speech  series  and 
discriminate  from  those  stops  and  breaks  which  we 
ascribe  to  imperfections  in  voice  or  mind.  Each  of 


READING  ALOUD 


161 


these  series  falls  into  successive  groups,  determined  in 
part  by  thought  and  emotion,  in  part  by  other  influ- 
ences, — breathing  in  and  out,  for  instance.  / We  may 
speak  of  a sense-group,  a breath-group,  a strong-weak 
group,  and  so  forth.  Unlike  groups  sometimes  do  and 
sometimes  do  not  begin  or  end  together.  There  are, 
moreover,  in  the  speech  series  resemblances  of  part  to 
part.  Verse  emerges  when  these  resemblances  recur 
with  such  constancy  that  they  attract  notice,  and  are 
remembered,  recognized,  anticipated,  and  at  last  planned, 
calculated,  contrived.  This  constancy  is  rarely  so  great 
that  absolute  verse  results,  and  rarely  so  little  that  it  is 
absolute  prose.  The  expectation  of  this  recurrence,  or 
the  desire  to  secure  it,  often  changes  the  utterance  of  a 
group  from  what  it  would  otherwise  have  been.  There 
are  great  differences  in  the  degrees  of  change  which 
speech  has  been  made  to  undergo  in  order  to  secure 
these  resemblances  and  contrasts  in  sense  or  in  sound. 
The  aim  has  been  to  produce  a certain  form,  or  to  pro- 
duce an  effect  on  the  mind  by  means  of  this  form.  The 
degree  of  change  which  some  tolerate  or  praise,  others 
condemn  or  reject.  Some,  indeed,  find  uniformity  of 
repetition  so  painful  that  they  instinctively,  or  pur- 
posely, in  the  composition  or  construction  of  verse, 
abandon,  for  a moment,  one  or  more  of  the  expected 
resemblances,  with  or  without  replacing  them  by 
another  set  of  resemblances. 


162 


READING  ALOUD 


This  text  of  Chaucer  represents  little  more  than  the 
vowel-consonant  series.  And  yet  while  so  much  is  left 
unexpressed,  of  some  things  there  is  a superfluity  of 
indications.  Thus  a verse  is  indicated  to  the  eye  by 
the  separate  line  and  the  initial  capital ; and  one  of 
the  many  functions  of  the  marks  of  punctuation  is  to 
distinguish  a verse  from  what  precedes  and  follows  it. 
Chaucer  indeed  knew  nothing  of  punctuation  and  had 
to  write  so  as  to  be  intelligible  without  it.  This  will 
help  to  see  what  I mean:  Write  on  a strip  of  paper 
a dozen  verses  of  Chaucer  in  one  continuous  line, 
without  capitals,  without  punctuation,  yes,  without 
separating  the  words,  so  that  the  dozen  verses  will 
appear  as  one  great  word ; and  you  will  be  surprised 
at  the  ease  with  which  one  can  make  out  where 
the  verses  begin  and  end,  and  what  the  sense  is  of 
each.  A like  experiment  with  any  similar  verses 
of  the  nineteenth  century  would  often  show  how  little 
correspondence  there  is  between  the  thought-series  and 
the  language-series.  Chaucer’s  verses  rime  to  the  eye 
as  well  as  to  the  ear  in  couplets.  Triplets  do  not 
occur. 

The  rimes  are  single,  either  ending  in  a consonant : — 

That  alle  the  feeldes  gliteren  up  and  doun; 

And  by  his  baner  born  is  his  penoun  978 

or  ending  in  a vowel : — 


READING  ALOUD 


163 


Goth  in  the  chambre , roming  to  and  fro, 

And  to  himself  compleyninge  of  his  wo  ; 1072 

or  the  rimes  are  double,  either  ending  in  a consonant : — 

And  by  assaut  he  wan  the  citee  after , 

And  rente  adoun  bothe  wall  and  sparre  and  rafter;  990 

or  ending  in  a vowel, — the  obscure  e,  with  scarcely  an 
exception : — 

Him  thoughte  a man  stood  by  his  beddes  side, 

And  him  comaunded  that  he  sholde  abide,  4270 

Of  the  long-short  series  there  are  no  other  marks 
than  such  as  are  found  in  the  signs  of  the  vowel- 
consonant  series.  Thus,  0 at  the  end  of  a syllable  is 
prolonged,  as  in  so-te;  when  not  at  the  end  of  a syllable 
it  is  usually  shortened,  as  in  croppes;  00  stands  for  the 
long  sound  sometimes,  as  in  hoost. 

There  are  no  indications  whatever  of  the  high-low 
series,  except  such  as  may  be  afforded  by  the  modern 
punctuation.  And  yet  every  story-teller  knows  that 
his  intention,  especially  his  humour,  is  rarely  ap- 
preciated unless  some  subtle  inflection  intimates  to  the 
hearer  that  an  utterance  means  more  than  others  would 
be  likely  to  discern  in  it.  It  is  like  a glance,  a gesture, 
a movement,  that  reveals  a situation  or  a character  in 
an  instant,  with  no  commentary  to  thank. 

Strangest  thing  of  all,  there  does  not  appear  to  be 
any  indication  whatever  of  the  loud-soft  series;  and 


164 


READING  ALOUD 


this,  when  we  are  told  that  Chaucer  was,  and  that  all 
good  poets,  in  England  at  least,  are,  more  concerned 
about  the  proper  alternation  and  succession  of  loud 
and  soft  syllables  than  about  any  other  qualities  of  the 
sound  whatever.  Singular  oversight  that  has  made 
necessary  numerous  volumes  to  communicate  the 
results  of  laborious  investigations  when  a few  simple 
marks  might  have  shown  us  how  Chaucer  read  his 
verses  in  this  respect  at  least,  — what  syllables  he 
made  strong  and  what  weak.  So  there  remains  this 
question,  What  syllables  were  stressed  and  how  much  ? 
and  its  counterpart,  What  syllables  were  unstressed, 
were  slurred,  or  even  omitted  altogether? 

In  Modern  English  we  have  the  ear  to  guide  us  when 
we  read,  — or  rather  the  memories  of  the  sounds  of 
words.  Look  at  the  following  from  Miss  Preston’s 
Translation  of  the  Georgies  of  Vergil:  — 

“Yea,  I have  seen,  when  harvest  days  are  early, 

And  the  first  reapers,  the  golden  fields  among, 

Shredding  from  slender  stems  the  ripened  barley, 

Shock  as  of  all  the  winds  together  flung 
In  battle.  Then  the  very  stalks,  uptorn 
By  the  furious  hurricane,  aloft  are  borne, 

And  whirled  into  the  blackness  of  the  storm 
The  culms  and  the  winged  stubble.  Or  yet  again 
Far  over  the  deep  the  clouds  their  squadrons  form, 

And  the  mighty  mass  rolls  inland,  foul  with  rain  ; 

And,  like  a foe,  the  flood  bursts  out  of  the  sky, 

And  the  very  aether  topples  from  on  high.” 


READING  ALOUD 


165 


Five  hundred  years  from  now  can  any  one,  having 
only  this  text  before  him,  say  what  sounds  the  charac- 
ters stand  for,  see  that  the  a’s  have  not  the  same  value 
in  have , harvest , days , early , among , and  all , or  tell 
whether /oe  is  of  one  or  two  sy.  ables,  or  whether  the 
first  or  the  last  syllable  of  blackness  is  stressed  ? 
Fortunately  the  translator’s  preface,  should  it  be  pre- 
served, will  furnish  an  account  of  her  versification, 
though  expressed  in  terms  that  are  ambiguous  enough 
even  now. 

But  let  me  try  to  describe  the  verse  of  Chaucer  with 
as  much  freedom  from  any  admixture  of  irrelevant  con- 
ceptions as  language  will  allow.  There  are  in  each 
verse  five  strong  syllables.  Before  the  first  of  the 
strong  syllables,  after  the  last,  and  between  any  two, 
stands  one  weak  syllable ; sometimes  two;  rarely,  except 
at  the  end  of  a verse,  none.  The  five  stresses  are  of  very 
unequal  strength.  One  is  usually  very  weak  relatively 
to  any  one  of  the  others.  The  remaining  four  then 
stand  out  with  greater,  though  unequal,  prominence. 
The  weak  syllables  are  not  equally  weak.  The  strong 
syllables  are  commonly  longer  than  the  weak.  The 
strong  syllables  convey  more  of  the  meaning  than  the 
weak. 

The  division  between  lines  usually  coincides  with  a 
division  between  sense-groups.  Not  only  is  couplet 
separated  from  couplet  in  this  way,  but  the  first  line 


166 


READING  ALOUD 


of  a couplet  from  the  second.  A line  usually  con- 
tains two  sense-groups.  These  share  the  line  as  equally 
as  may  be ; two  of  the  stronger  accents  going  with  the 
one,  and  two  with  the  other.  Sometimes  a sense- 
group  tills  out  the  whole  line,  and  it  sometimes  termi- 
nates unexpectedly  even  after  the  first  or  the  fourth 
stronger  accent.  But  the  unexpected  as  a literary 
force  is  sparingly  used.  Chaucer  does  not  make  mani- 
fest that  he  had  the  conception  of  a verse-form  that 
could  survive  such  shocks  persistently  repeated. 

“ Time  fleets : 

That’s  worst ! Because  the  pre-appointed  age 
Approaches.  Fate  is  tardy  with  the  stage 
And  crowd  she  promised.  Lean  he  grows  and  pale, 
Though  restlessly  at  rest.  Hardly  avail 
Fancies  to  soothe  him.  Time  steals,  yet  alone 
He  tarries  here  ! The  earnest  smile  is  gone. 

How  long  this  might  continue,  matters  not ; 

— Forever,  possibly  ; since  to  the  spot 
None  come  : ” 

It  is  questioned  whether  the  verses  are  of  equal 
duration,  whether  a verse  is  always  made  up  of  a defi- 
nite number  of  parts  that  equal  one  another  in  dura- 
tion, whether  each  such  part  begins  or  terminates  at  a 
stressed  syllable  or  otherwise.  I imagine  that  some 
ears  require  this  uniformity,  and  that  others  are  in- 
capable of  discerning  it. 


READING  ALOUD 


167 


If  two  light  syllables  come  between  two  heavy 
syllables,  they  are  by  some  readers  always  reduced  to 
one.  By  others  they  are  never  reduced  to  one.  By 
other  readers  they  are  sometimes  reduced  to  one  and 
sometimes  not,  according  to  their  nature  and  position. 

I have  stated  a variety  of  usages,  because  it  is  well 
to  try  the  effect  of  reading  the  lines  in  different  ways, 
and  to  find,  by  discussion  with  associates,  grounds  for 
preferring  one  to  the  other,  if  there  is  any  preference. 
I suppose  there  were  differences  among  Chaucer’s  con- 
temporaries not  less  than  among  readers  of  Chaucer 
to-day.  It  would  not  be  strange  if  Chaucer  himself 
read  a verse  at  one  time  in  one  way,  at  another  time 
in  another.  A verse  is  not  like  a line  in  a picture : 
and  even  that  changes  with  changing  light,  and  in  the 
presence  of  other  lines.  A verse  is  as  flexible  as  the 
lips  that  utter  it.  From  uniformity  in  the  former  and 
from  repose  in  the  latter  there  is  a broad  range  this 
side  of  distortion  and  caricature. 

As  a preparation  for  dealing  with  Chaucer’s  verse, 
observe  the  rendering  of  the  following  lines  : — 

44  Year  following  year , steals  something  every  day." 

44  To  books  and  study  give  seven  years  complete ." 

44  Soft  in  her  lap  her  laureate  son  reclines ." — Pope 

44  And  grow  incorporate  into  thee." 

44  But  for  the  unquiet  heart  and  brain." 

44  At  earliest  morning  to  the  door." 


168 


READING  ALOUD 


“ Through  prosperous  floods  liis  holy  urn." 

“ Some  dolorous  message  knit  below." 
u Tears  of  the  widower , when  he  sees." 

“ The  violet  of  his  native  land." 

“And  hears  the  ritual  of  the  dead." 

“ To  many  a flute  of  Arcady." 

“ Last  year , impetuously  we  sang."  — Tennyson* 


t t tt  t t 

Whan  that  Aprille  with  his  shoures  sote  1 

t tt  t t r 

And  bathed  every  veyne  in  swich  licour  3 

/ tt  tt  t 

Troutlie  and  honour , fredom  and  courteisye  46 

t t tt  tt 

Al  bismotered  with  his  habergeoun  76 

t t tt  rr 

Under  his  belt  he  bar  ful  thriftily  105 

t t t t t 

Wei  coude  he  dresse  his  talcel  yemanly  106 

t t t tt  r 

After  the  scole  of  Stratford  atte  Bowe  125 

tt  t tt  t 

That  no  drope  ne  fille  upon  hir  brest  131 

t t tt  r r 

In  curteisye  teas  set  ful  moche  hir  lest  132 

t t tt  t r 

That  in  hir  coppe  there  was  no  ferthing  sene  134 

t tt  t t t 

Is  likned  til  a fish  that  is  waterlees  180 

tt  t t r 

He  hadde  of  gold  wrought  a ful  curious  pin 


196 


READING  ALOUD 


169 


/ rr  r t t 

So  moche  of  daliaunce  and  fair  langage  211 

t t tt  t f 

Ful  wel  biloved  and  famulier  was  lie  215 

t t tt  t t 

For  to  delen  with  no  swich  poraille  247 

t t tt  t t 

With  a thredbare  cope , as  is  a povre  scoler  260 

/ tt  tt  tt 

So  estatly  was  he  of  his  governaunce  281 

/ tt  tt 

Ful  thredbare  was  his  overeste  courtepy  290 

t t f t t 

For  he  hadde  geten  him  yet  no  benefice  291 

rtr  f r 

Twenty  bokes  clad  in  blak  or  reed  294 

r r r t rr 

Yet  hadde  he  but  litel  gold  in  cofre  298 

tr  t rr  r 

Of  studie  took  he  most  cure  and  most  hede  303 

rtr  rtr 

His  purchasing  mighte  nat  been  infect  320 

t t t rr  t 

And  yet  he  semed  bisier  than  he  was  322 

t tt  t t t 

After  the  sondry  sesouns  of  the  yeer  347 

r tt  t tt 

Ful  many  a fat  partrich  hadde  he  in  mewe  349 

tt  rtr 

And  many  a breem  and  many  a luce  in  stewe  350 

t t t rr  r 

That  on  his  shine  a mormal  hadde  he  386 


170 


READING  ALOUD 


t t tt  t t 

A daggere  hanginge  on  a laas  hadde  he  392 

t t 1 1 t t 

The  hate  somer  hadde  maad  his  kewe  al  broun  394 

/ t t t t 

If  that  he  faught  and  hadde  the  hyer  hond  399 

r t t tt  t 

By  water  he  sente  hem  hoom  to  every  lond  40C 

t t tt  t t 

With  many  a tempest  hadde  his  herd  been  shake  406 

tt  tt  t t 

And  where  engendred  and  of  what  humour  421 

r t tt  t t 

Of  his  diete  mesurable  was  he  435 

t t t tt  t 

In  al  the  parishe  wyf  ne  was  ther  noon  449 

t r r tt  r 

And  thryes  hadde  she  been  at  Jerusalem  463 

t t t tt  r 

Wyd  was  his  parishe  and  houses  fer  asonder  491 

r tt  t t t 

The  ferreste  in  his  parishe  moche  and  lite  494 

/ t t tt  t 

And  shame  it  is  if  a preest  take  kepe  503 

t t t tt  t 

He  was  a shepherde  and  nought  a mercenarie  514 

tt  r t t t 

In  a tabard  he  rood  upon  a mere  541 

t r t t r 

A gentil  Maunciple  was  ther  of  a temple  567 

r t tt  t t 

To  make  him  live  by  his  propre  good  581 


THE  TEXT  171 

/ 9 9 99  9 

His  herd  was  shave  as  ny  as  ever  he  can  588 

9 99  t 9 9 

His  heer  was  by  his  eres  ful  round  y-shorn  589 

9 9 9 99  9 

In  youthe  he  lerned  hadde  a good  mister  613 

9 99  9 9 9 

But  hood  for  joiitee  wered  he  noon  680 

9 9 9 9 99 

No  herd  hadde  he  ne  never  sholde  have  689 


THE  TEXT 

The  first  book  printed  in  English,  The  Recuyell  of 
the  History es  of  Troye , was  put  to  press  at  Bruges 
in  1474  by  William  Caxton.  About  two  years  later 
he  set  up  his  wooden  printing-press  at  the  sign  of  the 
Bed  Pole  in  the  Almonry  of  Westminster.  Within  a 
few  years  he  had  issued  the  first  printed  edition  of 
The  Canterbury  Tales  in  that  curious  type  which 
looks  like  Monkish  script  and  has  been  since  1600 
called  Black  Letter.  Until  1478  the  Tales  had  circu- 
lated in  manuscripts  alone.  There  are  still  extant 
some  fifty  of  these,  but  none  that  can  be  safely  as- 
signed to  a date  earlier  than  a quarter  of  a century 
after  Chaucer’s  death,  or  proved  to  be  a copy  of  what 
Chaucer  himself  wrote  or  dictated.  Faithful  pictures 
of  single  pages  have  been  published,  and  the  frontis- 


172 


THE  TEXT 


piece  of  this  book  is  a sample  of  a part  of  one  of  these 
reduced  in  size.  The  Chaucer  Society  has  published 
facsimiles  of  different  manuscripts.  In  six  of  these 
eleven  of  the  lines  of  the  Prologue  appear  as  follows : — 

Bifil  that /in  that  seson  on  a day 
In  Southwerk / at  the  Tabard  as  I lay 
Bedy /to  wenden  on  my  pilgry mage 
To  Caunterbury /with  ful  deuout  corage 
At  nyght  / were  come /in  to  that  hostelry  e 
Wei  nyne  and  twenty  in  a compaignye 
Of  sondry  folk /by  aventure  y-falle 
In  felaweshipe / and  pilgrimes  were  they  alle 
That  toward  Caunterbury  wolden  ryde 
The  chambres  and  the  stables  weren  wyde 
And  wel  we  weren  esed  atte  beste 

Bifel  that  in  that  sesoun  on  a day 
In  Southiverk' at  the  Tabard /as  . I . lay 
Bedy  to  weenden  / on  my  pilgry  mage 
To  Caunterbury / with  ful  deuout  corage 
At  nyght  was  come /in  to  that  hostelrye 
Wei  . XXIX . in  a compaignye 
Of  sondry  folk /by  auenture  yfalle 
In  felaweshipe  / and  pilgrymes  weere  they  alle 
That  toward  Caunterbury  wolden  ryde 
The  chambres  and  the  stables /weeren  wyde 
And  reel  we  weeren  esed  at  the  beste 

Byfell  that  . in  that  sesoun  on  a daye. 

In  suthwerk  . at  the  Thabard  as  I laye. 

Bedy  to  weenden  . on  my  pilgrymage. 


THE  TEXT 


173 


To  Caunterbury  . with  full  deuoute  corage. 
At  nyght  was  come  . in  to  that  hostelrye. 
Well  nyne  and  twenty  . in  a companye. 

Of  sondry  folk  . by  auenture  falle. 
Infelschip  . and  pilgrymes  were  thei  alle. 
That  toward  Cauntirbury  . wolde  ryde. 

The  chambres  . and  the  stables  weren  wydeQ 
And  well  were  esid  . at  the  beste. 

bifill  that  on  that  seson  on  a day 
in  Suthwork  atte  Tabard  as  I lay 
redy  to  wende/on  my  pilgrimage 
to  Caunterbury /with  ful  deuout  corage 
at  night  was  come/in-to  that  hosterie 
wel  . XXIX.  in  a companye 
of  sondry  folk /bi  auenture  I-falle 
in  feloshipe / and  pilgr ernes  were  thei  alle 
that  toward  Caunterbury  wolde  ryde 
the  chambres  and  stablis  weren  wyde 
and  wel  weren  eased  at  the  beste 

Byfille  that  in  that  seson  on  aday 
In  southwerk  atte  Tabbard  as  I lay 
Redy  to  wende  on  my  pit gry mage 
To  Cantirbury  with  ful  devout  corage 
At  nyht  was  come  in  to  that  hostellerye 
Wel  nyne  and  twenty  on  a companye 
Of  sondry  folk  by  auenture  yfalle 
In  felaschipe  and  pilgrymes  were  they  alle 
That  toward  Cantirbery  wolde  ryde 
The  Chambres  and  stables  weren  wyde 
And  wel  weren  esed  atte  beste 


174 


THE  TEXT 


It  be-fel  than  in  that  sesone  vpon  a dale 
In  Suthewerke  att  the  tabard  as  . I . laie 
Bedi  to  wende  on  my  pilgremage. 

To  Canterburie  with  ful  deuoute  Corage. 

At  nyhte  was  come  in-to  that  hostellerie 
Wei  Nyne  and  twente  on  a companye 
Of  sondre  folke  be  auenture  yfalle 
In  felauschipe  and  Pilgrimes  were  they  alle 
To-warde  Camterburi  that  wolde  ride 
The  Chambres  and  stables  weren  wyde 
And  wele  weren  esede  at  the  beste 

Each  of  these  versions  differs  from  another,  and 
from  any  printed  text,  — Skeat’s,  Pollard’s,  or  Lid- 
dell’s, for  instance.  There  are  no  marks  of  punctua- 
tion; but,  as  now,  each  verse  has  a line  to  itself  and 
begins  with  a capital,  and  in  some  instances  subdivi- 
sions of  the  lines  are  indicated  by  slanting  strokes. 
These  devices  leave  the  grouping  of  the  lines  in  uncer- 
tainty, and  this  is  one  source  of  the  difference  of 
punctuation  in  the  modern  editions. 

The  versions  differ  also  in  spelling ; as  witness  Bi- 
fid, Bifid,  Byfell , hi  fill,  Byfille,  befiel.  Note  also  wenden 
and  wende,  wolden  and  wolde,  weren  and  were.  In  the 
manuscript  which  is  the  most  satisfactory  of  all  to 
modern  readers,  semeely,  semely,  semyly  occur  within  a 
few  lines.  One  may  well  ask  if  it  is  worth  while  to 
retain  this  diversity  in  a book  intended  for  school 
youth  or  indeed  if  it  is  well  to  retain  the  ancient 


THE  TEXT 


175 


orthography  at  all.  The  spelling  of  printed  English 
is  now  nearly  uniform  in  all  parts  of  the  world.  One 
unfortunate  consequence  of  this  is  that  the  spelling 
has  ceased  to  indicate  the  sounds  spoken,  different  as 
these  may  be  in  Australia  and  in  America.  But  the 
advantages  are  great;  so  great  indeed  that  this  fixed 
orthography  with  all  its  inconsistencies  has  been 
extended  over  the  past.  We  know  that  Milton’s 
pronunciation  was  not  that  of  an  educated  Londoner 
of  to-day,  and  what  his  spelling  was  one  can  see  in 
the  following  specimen  from  the  original  edition  of 
Paradise  Lost : — 

Nor  did  they  not  perceave  the  evil  plight 
In  which  they  were , nor  the  fierce  pains  not  feel : 

Yet  to  their  Generals  Voyce  they  soon  obeyd 
Innumerable.  As  when  the  potent  Rod 
Of  Amrams  son  in  Egypts  evill  day 
Wav'd  round  the  Coast , up  call'd  a pitchy  cloud 
Of  Locusts,  warping  on  the  Eastern  Wind , 

That  ore  the  Realm  of  impious  Pharaoh  hung 
Like  night  and  darken'd  all  the  Land  of  Nile : 

Shakespeare  is  a step  farther  removed.  In  our  read- 
ing we  make  no  attempt  to  speak  as  he  did,  and  in 
our  editions  for  the  use  of  the  people’s  schools  we 
do  not  once  think  of  retaining  the  contemporary  spell- 
ing. In  fact  it  has  little  to  recommend  it  except  to 
the  minute  student,  as  one  may  see  by  the  following 


176 


THE  TEXT 


extract  from  Love’s  Labour’s  Lost  as  it  appears  in  a 
Quarto  of  1598  : — 

u Let  Fame , that  all  hunt  after  in  their  lyues , 

Line  registred  vpon  our  brazen  Tombes , 

And  then  grace  vs,  in  the  disgrace  of  death : 

When  spight  of  cormorant  deuouring  Time , 
Thendeuour  of  this  present  breath  may  buy : 

That  honour  which  shall  bare  his  sythes  keene  edge , 
And  make  vs  heires  of  all  eternitie. 

Therefore  braue  Conquerours , for  so  you  are , 

That  warre  agaynst  your  owne  affections, 

And  the  hudge  armie  of  the  worldes  desires. 

Our  late  edict  shall  strongly  stand  in  force, 

Nauar  shall  be  the  wonder  of  the  worlde , 

Our  Court  shalbe  a lytlle  Achademe , 

Still  and  contemplatyue  in  lyuing  art.” 

This  same  system  of  uniform  orthography  of  ours 
has  been  extended  by  some  editors  to  the  works  of 
Chaucer.  Any  text  or  pronunciation,  it  is  asserted  by 
them,  will  be  but  an  approximation  to  Chaucer’s  own, 
which  was  hardly  faultless,  we  may  assume ; certainly 
not  ideal.  Neither  spelling  nor  sounds,  even  if  we 
knew  them,  are  facts  in  the  life  of  the  fourteenth  cen- 
tury, or  in  the  career  of  Chaucer,  at  any  rate  as  poet, 
that  concern  any  one  but  a professional  philologist. 
What  is  wanted  is  the  meaning,  the  feeling  that  went 
with  the  words ; and  that  they  claim  we  can  get  more 
readily  and  pleasurably  from  a text  in  modern  spell- 


THE  TEXT 


177 


mg,  pronounced  in  some  modern  wise,  with  thanks  for 
as  much  of  the  song-craft  as  may  survive. 

I might  ask  what  have  we  then  of  the  fourteenth 
century  — what  knowledge,  what  relic  — that  is  more 
than  a mere  approximation  to  the  reality  of  the  four- 
teenth century  itself?  It  is  hardly  a reason  for  re- 
jecting the  texts  and  pronunciations  which  are  offered 
that  they  are  but  rough  approximations  to  what  Chau- 
cer wrote  and  spoke.  The  fact  is  that  the  current  of 
Chaucer’s  influence  has  swept  in  many  different  direc- 
tions. There  are  modernizations,  translations,  imita- 
tions, adaptations  of  The  Canterbury  Tales , and  there 
will  be;  among  which  choice  is  free.  But  school  youth 
should  be  required  to  withdraw  their  attention  from 
the  word  as  it  is  to-day,  with  its  present  spelling  and 
pronunciation,  and  all  the  associations  that  these  imply, 
and  try  to  see  and  hear  and  speak  the  words  and  think 
their  meanings  as  they  were  in  the  fourteenth  century. 
To  give  but  one  instance  of  what  will  find  ample  illus- 
tration in  every  page,  Chaucer’s  sclioures , sliowres , 
shoures , differs  not  only  in  spelling  and  pronunciation 
from  our  showers,  but  in  meaning  also  ; that  is  to  say, 
in  what  it  suggests,  not  in  what  a glossary  can  define 
it  to  mean.  Or  is  it  a mere  whim  of  my  own  mind, 
not  deserving  to  be  adopted  by  other  minds,  that  leads 
me  to  see  and  hear  in  shoures  drops  of  water  falling 
from  a darkened  sky  on  field  and  river,  while  showers 


N 


178 


THE  TEXT 


are  predicted  in  newspapers  by  those  who  know  of  the 
wind  whence  it  cometh  and  whither  it  goeth  ? 

But  this  is  difficult,  one  objects.  The  principle  im- 
plied in  the  retention  of  early  forms  of  the  language 
in  order  to  preserve  the  freshness  of  the  early  thought, 
would  require  one  to  be  seated  in  a Chaucerian 
chambre , clothed  in  a Chaucerian  cote-hardie,  and  set 
to  reading  from  a Chaucerian  manuscript  by  the  light 
of  a Chaucerian  candle.  That  is  just  what  I would 
do,  and  much  more  besides,  even  to  setting  the  Shire 
of  Kent  back  five  hundred  years,  and  taking  four  days 
in  going  with  a band  of  pilgrims  from  Southwerk  to 
Caunterbury.  That  is  what  we  try  to  do  in  homes 
and  theatres,  in  tableaux  and  masquerades,  in  statues 
and  pictures,  and  certainly  in  fancies  and  imagina- 
tions. We  may  see  nothing  but  the  time-worn  text, 
waking  only  broken  echoes  from  the  song  of  “the 
morning  star  of  poesy  who  made  his  music  heard  be- 
low ; ” but  this  we  can  see,  and  behold  in  it,  “ like  the 
sights  in  a magic  crystal  ball,”  Chaucer’s  England. 

And  yet  the  text  which  you  here  see  put,  though 
not  modernized,  has  been  made  more  uniform  than 
most  others.  Shoures  has  not  been  changed  to  showers , 
breeth  to  breath , palmer es  to  palmers , felawesliipe  to  fel- 
lowship; silent  and  mispronounced  letters  have  not 
ijeen  introduced,  however  useful  they  may  now  be  to 
us  in  distinguishing  for  the  eye  words  that  cannot  be 


THE  LANGUAGE 


179 


distinguished  by  the  ear;  and,  of  course,  letters  that 
have  since  become  silent  have  been  retained  when 
they  were  pronounced  in  the  fourteenth  century.  But 
I have  not  thought  it  desirable  to  trouble  the  reader 
with  the  fact  that  seson  was  sometimes  written,  but 
was  the  same  in  meaning  and  pronunciation  as  the 
sesoun  that  was  found  in  other  passages ; and  as  long 
as  drought  was  written  in  some  places,  it  did  not  seem 
necessary  to  write  droglit  in  others  with  the  accom- 
panying explanation  that  it  was  pronounced  like  the 
former.  Still  no  one  consideration  has  been  allowed 
to  prevail  to  the  exclusion  of  every  other;  and  this 
much  may  be  said  that  in  some  cases  where  there  are 
only  probabilities,  and  such  probabilities  as  admit  of 
no  numerical  evaluation,  two  minds,  or  even  one  mind 
at  different  times,  have  not  come  to  the  same  conclu- 
sion. If  you  go  beyond  this  book  in  the  study  of 
Chaucer  or  of  Middle  English,  you  will  have  much  to 
learn,  but  I trust  not  a great  deal  to  unlearn. 


THE  LANGUAGE 

The  following  remarks  concern  the  language  in 
script  and  in  print ; the  language  in  speech  has  already 
been  considered.  These  two  modes  of  utterance  differ 
greatly  from  each  other.  Speech  may  be  intelligible, 


180 


THE  LANGUAGE 


correct,  even  elegant,  but  script  has  too  few  signs  to 
be  in  any  considerable  degree  the  counterpart  of 
speech.  It  has,  however,  some  resources  of  its  own  to 
use  in  compensation.  Such  are  different  spellings  of 
words  which  sound  alike;  changes  in  the  order  of 
words ; punctuation-marks  and  other  distinguishing 
signs  which  have  direct  correspondences  in  the  thought- 
series  and  not  in  the  sound-series;  the  arrangement 
of  the  characters  on  the  page ; and  especially  the  fact 
that  all  the  parts  of  the  visible  expression  exist  at 
the  same  time,  and  admit  of  easy  comparison,  while 
the  parts  of  the  audible  utterance  are  successive. 

Aside  from  the  general  aspect  of  the  written  or 
printed  page,  and  from  some  minor  matters  of  punctu- 
ation, we  find  in  Chaucer’s  language : — 

1.  Words  that  'have  gone  out  of  use  together  with 
their  meanings  : arilaas , court epy, /aiding,  gipoun , haber- 
geoun , and  a few  others. 

2.  Words  that  have  gone  out  of  use,  and  been  re- 
placed by  other  words  of  like  meaning : cibyen , apalle , 
deduyt , lechecraft , swinJcen,  taas. 

3.  Words  that  are  still  in  use  but  with  changed 
meanings : minister , wit , bacheler , blankmanger , and 
many  others,  if  meaning  is  used  to  denote  all  that  a 
word  suggests,  and  slight  changes  are  considered. 

4.  Words  that  are  still  in  use  with  unchanged 
meaning : Aprille , bathed,  slepen , melodye,  and  very 


THE  LANGUAGE 


181 


many  more ; and  yet  it  would  often  be  very  difficult 
to  decide  whether  a word  belongs  to  this  class  or  the 
preceding,  unless  meaning  is  confined  to  the  significa- 
tion which  can  be  exhibited  in  a dictionary. 

Of  the  words  that  have  been  retained,  there  are  few 
that  have  not  been  altered  in  spelling:  slepen  and 
sleep,  sesoun  and  season,  chambres  and  chambers,  felawe- 
shipe  and  fellowship.  The  complicated  relations  among 
changes  of  spelling,  changes  of  pronunciation,  and 
changes  of  meaning  are  not  easy  to  ascertain  or  exhibit, 
and  few  generalizations  or  brief  summaries  are  possible. 

Forms  that  differed  slightly,  as  slepen,  slepe , step’, 
have  mingled  into  one,  and  the  original  differences  of 
meaning,  if  such  existed,  are  expressed  otherwise  or 
disregarded. 

Different  parts  of  a sentence  often  expressed  the 
same  thing.  This  I call  Multiple  Indication.  Modern 
English  has  passed  to  Single  Indication,  though  it 
still  retains  some  instances  of  Double  and  even  Triple 
Indication.  In  Tho  foure  yonge  men  riden  yesterday, 
we  find  expressed  seven  times  that  there  were  more 
youths  than  one ; once  by  tho,  twice  by  foure,  once  by 
yonge,  once  by  men,  twice  by  riden.  Tho  is  a plural 
form  ; four  is  plural  by  its  definition  ; the  termination 
e in  foure  and  yonge  implies  plurality ; men  is  plural 
as  contrasted  with  man,  the  need  of  a special  form 
(like  min , say,  that  would  mean  either)  being  rarely 


182 


THE  LANGUAGE 


felt ; both  parts  of  rid-en  denote  that  there  was  more 
than  one  rider.  In  Those  four  young  men  rode  yesterday , 
the  indications  of  more  than  one  are  reduced  to  three ; 
for  rode  is  neither  singular  nor  plural.  Chaucer  would 
have  said  he  rood , but  they  riden;  we  say  he  rode  and 
they  rode , and  one  cannot  tell  by  rode  anything  about 
the  number  of  the  riders.  We  still  retain  Double  In- 
dication in  rode  and  yesterday , both  of  which  refer  us  to 
a past;  the  former  vaguely,  the  latter  more  definitely. 

I have  said  that  the  e in  yonge  was  a sign  of  plural- 
ity; but  it  had  come  to  be  the  sign  of  many  other 
things,  and  often  of  nothing  at  all.  The  e then  had 
no  longer  any  function  so  far  as  the  mere  signification 
was  concerned,  and  gradually  disappeared,  now  here, 
now  there,  in  this  phrase  and  in  that  phrase,  with  one 
class  of  the  people  and  with  another  class,  in  one  style 
of  composition  and  in  another  style,  as  sentiment  or 
structure  determined.  It  was  written  where  it  was 
not  heard,  and  heard  where  it  was  not  written ; but  as 
is  evident  from  what  has  been  said,  its  presence  or  ab- 
sence rarely  affected  the  determination  of  the  meaning. 

Such  expressions  as  where  as  that , there  as,  whanne 
’.hat,  originated  at  a time  when  the  component  words, 
whan,  wher,  ther,  etc.,  had  not  the  restricted  meaning 
and  use  which  they  have  now.  Where  and  when  have 
now  taken  the  place  of  these  phrases. 

The  merging  of  several  like  words  into  one,  the  ap 


THE  LANGUAGE 


183 


proach  to  Single  Indication,  the  omission  of  parts  of 
phrases,  mark  differences  that  five  hundred  years  have 
made  in  the  language.  The  changes  in  detail  are 
numerous  enough,  as  you  cannot  fail  to  note  when  you 
compare  with  the  original  your  written  translation 
into  Modern  English. 

Meanings  are  expressed  in  Modern  English  by  marks 
of  punctuation,  by  differences  in  letters,  as  capitals  and 
italics,  by  the  apostrophe,  and  a few  similar  signs,  to 
an  extent  altogether  unknown  to  Chaucer’s  English. 

NOUNS 

The  plural  is  like  the  singular : caas , hors , neet , paas, 
pound , sheep , swyn , vers , yeer . 

The  plural  differs  from  the  singular  by  vowel- 
change:  foot,  feet ; goos , gees;  man , men . 

The  plural  adds  n to  the  singular,  often  with  other 
changes:  asshe,  asslien  ; brothor , br ether en;  child , chil- 
dren; daughter , doughtren;  eye , eyen;  ox , oxen;  suster , 
sustren;  too , toon;  ye , yen . 

The  plural  adds  es  to  the  singular,  with  doubling  of 
its  final  consonant  when  necessary:  ford,  lordes ; god , 
goddes;  crop , croppes;  palmer,  palmer es ; teer , teres. 

The  plural  adds  s to  the  singular:  bargayn , &ar- 
gayns;  nacioun , naciouns . 

The  singular  has  sometimes  two  plurals : too,  toos 
and  tocm. 


184 


THE  LANGUAGE 


The  genitive  ends  in  es : his  lordes  sheep , his  lord’s 
or  his  lords’  sheep ; a siverdes  lengtlie , a sword’s  length. 

Except  the  following:  his  lady  grace,  our  lady  veil ; 
at  the  sonne  upriste , the  rose  colour , herte  blood , my 
fader  soule,  a hinges  brother  sone , to  Venus  temple. 

The  relation  of  the  meaning  of  a noun  to  the  mean- 
ing of  any  other  part  of  a sentence  was  expressed  in 
the  absence  of  noun-inflections  by  the  inflections  of 
other  words,  especially  pronouns,  by  special  words, 
by  position,  or  left  unexpressed  or  contradicted  in  ex- 
pression, when  the  relation  itself  was  obvious  or  irre- 
versible. 

The  noun  itself  is  not  infrequently  omitted  when  its 
meaning  is  pointed  to  by  these  and  other  indications : — 

Bight  as  the  hunters  in  the  regne  of  Trace , 

That  stondeth  at  the  gappe  with  a spere , 

Whan  hunted  is  the  leoun  or  the  here, 

And  hereth  him  come  rushing  in  the  greves , 

And  breketh  bothe  bowes  and  the  leves, 

And  thinketh , ‘ heer  cometh  my  mortel  enemy , 

Without e faile  he  moot  be  deed  or  1644 

PRONOUNS 

in  the  Glossary  will  be  found  a translation  of  each 
peculiar  form,  and  in  the  Notes  a fuller  explanation 
in  at  least  one  instance  of  its  occurrence.  Here  certain 
differences  of  idiom  are  noted. 


THE  LANGUAGE 


185 


Shaltow,  wiltow  are  for  shalt  thou , wilt  thou . Ye  is 
subject-form,  and  you  object-form : Ye  finden  me,  I 
finde  you.  Hit  and  his  are  it  and  its.  Hem  is  them. 
My,  myn,  mine  are  my ; the  two  last  also  mine.  Simi- 
larly with  thy,  thyn,  thine.  His  and  hise  mean  his; 
her  and  here,  as  well  as  hir  and  hire  mean  her  or  hers, 
and  their  or  theirs.  Our  and  oure  mean  our  or  ours, 
and  similarly  with  your  and  youre. 

Tharray,  tb! array,  the  array,  illustrates  the  treatment 
of  the  before  a vowel.  That  oon,  that  other  equal  the 
one,  the  other.  Atte  means  at  the.  Tlio  is  sometimes 
to  be  translated  those. 

Which,  the  whiche  is  translated  by  who  or  whom  as 
well  as  by  which.  Swich  . . . which  is  such  ...  as. 
That  ...  he  is  frequent  as  a relative  pronoun : — 

At  were  they  sore  y-hurt , and  namely  oon, 

That  with  a spere  was  thirled  his  brest  boon . 2710 

Whose  breast-bone  was  pierced  by  a spear.  The  clause 
introduced  by  who  or  which  is  often  preceded  by  that : — 

Than  shal  I yeve  Emelya  to  wive 

To  whom  that  fortune  yeveth  so  fair  a grace.  1861 

Men,  not  the  plural  but  a weakened  form  of  man,  is 
used  with  a singular  verb  in  the  sense  of  one  or  some 
one  or  any  one : — 

Or  if  men  smoot  it  with  a yerde  smerte.  149 

For  alday  meteth  men  at  unset  stevene.  1524 


> 


186 


THE  LANGUAGE 


Som  is  singular,  and  som  . . . som  means  one  . . . 
another : — 

Som  in  his  bed , som  in  the  depe  see.  3031 

I see  me , thou  seest  thee  can  hardly  mean  anything 
else  than  I see  myself,  thou  seest  thyself  He  seetli  him 
may  mean  he  sees  himself;  and  they  seyn  hem , they  see 
themselves. 

He  . . . he  is  translated  this  one  . . . that  one  in:  — 

Somme  sayde  he  loked  grim , and  he  ivolde  fighte.  2519 
In  : — 

And  he  him  hurtleth  with  his  hors  adoun.  2616 

translate : One  dashes  down  another. 

The  view,  whence  the  name,  that  a pronoun  is  a word 
which  takes  the  place  of  a noun  is  less  useful  than  the 
view  that  it  is  a word  of  wide  applicability  which 
accordingly  names  what  may  be  more  definitely  indi- 
cated otherwise.  The  former  view  points  to  a relation 
to  preceding  or  following  words ; the  latter  to  things 
and  thoughts  however  they  may  have  been  or  are  to  be 
designated.  The  former  view  prevails  with  those  who 
have  to  talk  about  language ; the  latter  would  prevail 
with  those  who  have  to  talk  about  other  things  only,  if 
they  could  give  any  account  of  their  own  usage.  The 
presence  and  absence  of  the  pronoun  then  should  be 
determined  by  its  utility.  If  nouns  and  verbs  had 
suitable  inflections,  it  would  be  introduced  solely  for 


THE  LANGUAGE 


187 


the  sake  of  the  meaning  of  its  stem.  If  it  should 
retain  its  inflection  while  verbs  and  nouns  lost  theirs, 
it  might  be  used  for  the  meaning  of  its  inflections 
alone.  Chaucer  treats  even  nouns  and  verbs  with 
respect  to  their  insertion,  repetition,  or  omission  as 
freely  as  he  does  pronouns.  My  purpose  in  saying 
this  is  to  encourage  the  practice  of  studying  the  mean- 
ing of  each  instance,  as  of  him  in  the  subjoined  quota- 
tion, rather  than  that  of  referring  it,  as  here,  to  some 
such  rule  as : A noun  is  often  repeated  in  the  form  of 
a pronoun : — 

Now  been  thise  listes  maad,  and  Theseus , 

That  at  his  grete  cost  arrayed  thus 
The  temples  and  the  theatre  every  del , 

Whan  it  was  done , hifn  liked  wonder  well.  2092 

Here  him  shows  the  relation  of  Theseus  to  liked:  it 
pleased  Theseus. 

And  al  was  conscience  and  tendre  herte.  150 

That  is,  she  was  all  conscience  and  tenderness  of  heart. 

For  unto  swich  a worthy  man  as  he 

Acorded  nat , etc.  244 

It  did  not  accord,  was  not  suitable. 

That  Iicas  of  their  felaweshipe  anon  ; 

And  made  forward  erly  for  to  rise , 3? 

we  made  an  agreement. 


188 


THE  LANGUAGE 


Ther  was  noon  auditour  coude  on  him  winne.  594 

Who  coude , etc.  Though  it  could  be  proved  that  the 
clause  once  began  with  who,  yet  in  fact  coude  on  him 
winne  is  an  adjective  equivalent  to  able  to  winne  on 
him.  Another  way  of  describing  the  construction  is  to 
say  that  one  auditour  is  enough,  and  that  the  repetition 
of  the  word  or  of  any  substitute  for  the  word  is  reason- 
ably avoided. 

Of  smale  houndes  hadde  she , that  she  fedde , 146 

Her  “ having  ” of  little  dogs  she  fed.  There  is  really 
nothing  to  be  supplied.  The  sentence  says  all  it  was 
meant  to,  and  the  writer  or  hearer  of  it  never  thought 
of  “ some 55  or  “ a number.” 

A Monk  ther  was,  a fair  for  the  maistrye.  165 

After  a fair , there  is  no  omission  of  man  or  person  or 
one  ; these  were  sometimes  used,  and  not,  as  now, 
nearly  always.  Chaucer  did  say : — 

A knight  ther  vms,  and  that  a worthy  man , 43 

and 

I have  the  moste  stedefast  wyf, 

And  eek  the  melceste  oon  that  bereth  lyf.  — E.  1552. 

ADJECTIVES 

The  few  comparatives  or  superlatives  that  might  fail 
to  be  recognized  as  such  are  explained  in  Notes  or 


THE  LANGUAGE 


189 


Glossary.  Adjectives  of  more  than  one  syllable  are 
rarely  inflected:  swete , daungerous.  Monosyllables 
often  take  e as  plurals,  in  address,  before  proper  names, 
after  the , this,  and  that , and  in  some  other  conditions : 
a yong  man , the  yonge  man.  This  distinction  is  not 
observed  in  Modern  English : a young  man , the  young 
man. 

Of  all  is  expressed  sometimes  by  oiler , alder;  our 
oiler , of  us  all;  Mr  alter,  of  them  all;  alderbest,  best 
of  all. 

VERBS 


The  following  presents  are  alike  in  all  verbs,  and 
one  model  will  suffice : — 

Present  Indicative.  Present  Subjunctive. 


I binde 
thou  bindest 
he  bindeth 
we  binden 
ye  binden 
they  binden 


I binde 
thou  binde 
he  binde 
we  binden 
ye  binden 
they  binden 


Present  Infinitive.  Present  Participle. 

binden  bindinge 

Eorms  are  sometimes  shortened  and,  in  consequence, 
otherwise  changed:  seyest,  seyst;  lyeth,  lyth;  biddeth , 


190 


THE  LANGUAGE 


bit;  bresteth,  brest ; rideth , rit;  sitteth , sit ; binden , 
binde;  bindinge,  binding ; seyen,  seyn ; gooen,  goon . 

Binden  is  one  of  a class  of  verbs  that  form  the  past 
singular  by  vowel  change  alone,  and  are  hence  called 
Strong  Verbs  : — 


Past  Indicative. 
I band 
thou  band 
he  band 
we  bounden 
ye  bounden 
they  bounden 


Past  Subjunctive. 
I bounde 
thou  bounde 
he  bounde 
we  bounden 
ye  bounden 
they  bounden 


All  other  verbs  are  called  Weak  Verbs.  Such  are 
loven , I lovede;  clotlien , I cladde;  heren , I herde  ; greten , 
I grette  ; tellen , I tolde ; seken,  I soughte.  The  termi- 
nations are  alike  in  all. 


Past  Indicative. 
I soughte 
thou  soughtest 
he  soughte 
we  soughten 
ye  soughten 
they  soughten 


Past  Subjunctive. 
I soughte 
thou  soughte 
he  soughte 
we  soughten 
ye  soughten 
they  soughten 


Forms  are  sometimes  shortened  : lovede , loved,  lovde. 
The  Imperative.  The  plural  is  always  eth;  the 


THE  LANGUAGE 


191 


singular  in  Strong  Verbs  has  no  termination,  in  Weak 
Verbs  ends  in  e : — 

bind , bindeth  grete , greteth 

The  plural  is  sometimes  interchanged  with  the  singular. 

The  past  participle  of  Strong  Verbs  ends  in  n,  of 
Weak  Verbs  in  d or  t:  bounden,  drawen , loved , caught, 
n is  often  dropped:  bounde.  e is  sometimes  added 
when  the  participle  is  plural : boundene , caughte.  y 
is  sometimes  prefixed : y-bounde , y-caught. 

Obscure,  anomalous,  and  compound  forms  will  be 
found  in  the  Glossary. 

Chaucer’s  rood  indicates  one  rider,  his  riden  more 
than  one  rider ; our  rode  is  neutral,  indicates  the  pres- 
ence at  some  past  time  of  a rider,  or  of  some  riders,  or 
of  all  the  riders,  or  of  all  riders.  Rode  might  better 
be  called  non-numeral.  Chaucer  had  no  non-numeral 
form,  and  was  forced  to  say  either  one  or  more  riders, 
even  when  the  fact  was  sufficiently  indicated  otherwise, 
or  needed  no  prominence,  or  was  inconsistent  with 
other  indications.  Non-numeral  forms  often  develop 
from  numeral  forms ; and  those  familiar  with  the  for- 
mer, imagine  them  in  the  latter.  There  is  a difference 
then  between  our  And  after  rode  the  queen  and  Emily 
and  Chaucer’s  And  after  rood  the  queue  and  Emelye. 

It  is  usually  said  that  some  word  is  omitted  01 
understood  or  to  be  supplied  in  the  following:  — 


192 


THE  LANGUAGE 


A wrethe  of  gold , arm-greet , of  huge  wighte , 

Upon  his  heed , seZ /nZ  o/  stones  brighte, 

Of  fine  rubies  and  of  diamaunts.  2147 

The  oral  utterance  of  the  preceding  with  proper 
stresses  and  inflection  would  not  suggest  any  such 
lack ; was  indeed  can  be  introduced  at  several  points, 
but  it  adds  nothing  to  what  is  already  indicated  by 
the  punctuation  and  connection.  The  tendency  to 
supply  words  that  add  nothing  to  the  sense  should  be 
resisted,  unless  you  can  prove  that  such  words  were 
once  present  in  an  expression. 

Finde , jinden , to  Jlnde , to  finden , for  to  finde , for  to 
finden,  are  six  forms  which  Chaucer  might  have  used 
in  most  cases  where  we  use  either  find,  to  find , or  find- 
ing, of  finding,  in  finding,  by  finding,  or  that  one  finds , 


may  find,  should  find,  and  so  on : — 

Than  longen  folk  to  goon  on  pilgrimages , 

And  palmeres  for  to  seken  straunge  strondes . 13 

The  holy  blisful  martir  for  to  seke.  17 

In  hope  to  stonden  in  his  lady  grace.  88 

. . . for  him  liste  ride  so.  102 

What  sholde  he  studie , and  make  himselven  wood 
Upon  a book  in  cloistre  alwey  to  poure.  185 

Wei  coude  he  singe  and  pleyen  on  a rote.  236 

It  is  nat  lioneste.  it  may  nat  avaunce 
For  to  delen  with  no  swich  poraille. 


247 


THE  LANGUAGE 


193 


Ne  was  so  worldly  for  to  have  office ; 

For  him  was  levere  have  at  his  beddes  heed 

Twenty  bokes  ...  294 

And  bisily  gan  for  the  soules  preye.  301 

But  of  his  craft  to  rekene  wel  his  tides , 401 

In  al  this  world  ne  was  ther  noon  him  lik , 

To  speke  of  pliisik  and  of  surgerye  413 

No  wonder  is  a lewed  man  to  ruste.  502 

Wel  loved  he  garleek , oynons , and  eek  lekes , 

And  for  to  drinken  strong  wyn  reed  as  blood.  635 

Y-sworn  ful  depe  and  ech  of  us  til  other , 

That  nevere , for  to  dyen  in  the  peyne , 

Til  that  the  deeth  departe  shal  us  tweyne , 

Neither  of  us  in  love  to  hindren  other . 1135 

And  eek  it  is  nat  lykly , al  thy  lyf 

To  stonden  in  liir  grace , namore  shal  I.  1173 

And  thereto  he  was  strong  and  big  of  bones 

To  doon  that  any  wight  can  him  devise.  1425 

Chaucer’s  tenses  are  the  same  as  ours,  but  he  uses 
the  present  for  the  past  or  for  the  future  more  freely, 
sometimes  passing  from  one  to  the  other  in  the  same 
sentence : — 

And  in  his  armes  he  hem  alle  up  liente , 

And  hem  conforteth  in  ful  good  entente.  958 

His  baner  he  desplayeth  and  forth  rood.  966 

And  sente  anoon  Ipolita  the  quene 
******** 

And  forth  he  rit.  974 

o 


194 


THE  LANGUAGE 


Few  subjunctives  exist  in  Modern  English.  I,  thou , 
lie , we,  you,  they,  be;  I,  thou , he,  were;  but  no  other 
form  of  the  verb  to  be;  thou  find,  he  find,  but  no 
other  than  these  two  forms  of  the  verb  to  find,  and  no 
more  than  these  two  of  any  other  verb  whatever.  I 
were  and  he  were  are  the  only  ones  even  of  these  few 
that  most  of  us  ever  hear ; nor  does  any  one  discern 
much  difference  between  if  I were  wealthy  and  if  I had 
wealth,  when  each  is  followed  by  I would  help  the 
deserving  only.  In  Chaucer  the  subjunctives  are  nu- 
merous. The  translation  into  Modern  English  retains 
some  of  the  terminations,  drops  others  where  there 
was  Double  Indication,  and  replaces  others  with  may, 


might,  etc. 

As  it  were  a castel  lual.  4050 

Ware  the  sonne  in  his  ascencioun 
Nefinde  yow  nat  repleet  of  humours  hote; 

And  if  it  do,  I dar  wel  leye  a grote , 4148 

If  thou  tomorwe  wende,  4271 

And  though  that  he  were  worthy,  he  was  ivys , 68 

Er  it  were  day,  as  was  hir  wone  to  do,  1040 

Now  demeth  as  yow  liste,  ye  that  can,  1353 

ADVERBS 


In  order  to  understand  Chaucer  it  is  not  necessary 
to  know  either  the  qualities  common  to  all  adverbs,  or 


THE  LANGUAGE 


195 


the  mark  of  any  class  of  adverbs,  or  even  to  have  ever 
heard  of  adverbs ; and  it  is  not  desirable  to  be  think- 
ing about  adverbs  when  one  is  reading  Chaucer.  A 
reason  for  wishing  to  know  whether  an  expression  is 
an  adverb  or  not  is  to  ascertain  thereby  the  meaning 
of  the  sentence.  There  is  no  test  by  which  adverbs 
may  be  discriminated  on  mere  inspection,  but  often 
only  on  subtle  combination  of  slight  indications,  and 
the  meaning  is  generally  reached  long  before  the 
process  by  which  it  is  reached  can  be  discerned  or 
described. 

Some  words  are  always  adverbs : often , specially. 

Some  words  are  never  adverbs : lovest,  Jindest, 

palmeres . 

Some  words  are  adverbs  in  one  sentence,  and  not 
adverbs  in  another : — 

They  foynen  ech  at  other  wonder  longe.  n654 

Ther  saugh  I many  another  wonder  storie . 2073 

Where  no  tests  are  discoverable,  the  sentence  has 
more  than  one  meaning,  and  what  was  intended  must 
be  learned  from  some  other  source. 

Adverbs  are  formed  from  adjectives  by  adding  e, 
liche,  lick , ly , ely : riglite , royalliche , pitously , softely. 
The  test  of  derivation  or  termination  guides  less  often 
than  the  test  of  position ; and  in  this  respect  Chaucer’s 
English  agrees  with  our  own.  Moreover,  in  the  Notes 


196 


THE  LANGUAGE 


and  the  Glossary,  adverbs  are  translated  by  adverbs, 
and  individual  peculiarities  are  treated  as  they  arise. 

All  negation  is  effected  by  particles  either  alone  or 
in  composition : — 


In  all  this  world  ne  was  there  noon  him  lyk.  412 
There  nas  baillif,  ne  herde , ne  other  hine , 

That  he  ne  knew  his  sleighte  and  his  covine . 604 

He  was  n at  pale  as  a forpined  goost.  205 

And  he  nas  nat  right  fat , I undertake.  288 

I nam  but  dead.  1122 

Hir  briglite  heer  was  kempt , untressed  al.  2289 


A negative  applied  to  a negative  would  in  general 
destroy  the  negation,  and  two  negatives  applied  to  the 
same  word  would  in  general  emphasize  it.  Negatives 
applied  to  different  words  in  a sentence  direct  us  to 
remove  from  the  meaning  of  the  sentence  the  meaning 
of  each  of  those  words : No  wine  ne  drank  she  rubs 
out  in  the  picture  both  the  wine  and  the  drinking  of 
it.  There  is  neither  inconsistency  nor  emphasis,  but 
a sort  of  Multiple  Indication,  since  the  removal  of 
either  would  have  sufficed.  Chaucer  could  say,  No 
wine  drank  she , or  Wine  ne  drank  she , but  instances  of 
the  repeated  negations  are  found  on  every  page. 

GENEALOGY  OF  ENGLISH 

Among  the  hundreds  of  known  languages,  living 
and  dead,  the  following  and  a few  more  are  like  one 


THE  LANGUAGE 


197 


another  and  unlike  all  others  in  certain  aspects,  and 
are  hence  called  a family  of  languages,  and,  from 
their  geographical  distribution,  named  the  Indo-Euro> 
pean : — 

I.  Indian  (Sanskrit,  Pali,  Bengali,  etc.). 

II.  Iranian  (Avestan,  Old  Persian,  etc.). 

III.  Armenian. 

IV.  Greek. 

V.  Italic  (Latin,  Oscan,  Umbrian,  etc.  From  Latin 
come  Italian,  Provencal,  French,  Spanish, 
Portuguese,  Boumanian). 

VI.  Celtic  (Irish,  Manx,  Gaelic,  Welsh,  Cornish, 
Breton). 

VII.  Slavonic  (Bussian,  Bulgarian,  Polish,  Bohemian, 
Servian). 

VIII.  Baltic  (Lithuanian,  Lettish,  Old  Prussian). 

IX.  Teutonic, 

(A)  East  Teutonic  (Gothic). 

(JB)  Scandinavian  (Icelandic,  Dano-FTorwegian, 
Swedish). 

((7)  West  Teutonic, 

(а)  High  Teutonic  (German). 

(б)  Low  Germanic  (Old  Frisian,  Anglo- 

Saxon  or  Old  English,  Old  Frank- 
ish, Frisian,  English,  Platt-deutsch. 
Dutch,  Flemish). 


198 


THE  LANGUAGE 


Many  an  Englishman  has  added  to  his  mother- 
tongue  borrowings  from  other  languages,  living  and 
dead,  related  or  unrelated. 

PARTITIONS  OF  ENGLISH 

The  fifth-century  conquerors  of  Romanized  Britain, 
the  Jutes  and  the  Saxons  as  well  as  the  Angles,  spoke 
what  was  called  English.  The  term  Anglo-Saxon  has 
been  applied  to  one  stage  of  this  language,  called  Old 
English  below  in  the  table  from  Sweet’s  A New 
English  Grammar;  while  Old ‘English  has  been  ap- 
plied to  a different  stage,  which  is  called  Middle 
English  in  the  table:  — 

Early  Old  English  (E.  of  Alfred) 700-900 

Late  Old  English  (E.  of  iElfric) 900-1100 

Transition  Old  English  (E.  of  Layamon)  ....  1100-1200 

Early  Middle  English  (E.  of  the  Ancren  Riwle)  . 1200-1300 

Late  Middle  English  (E.  of  Chaucer) 1300-1400 

Transition  Middle  English  (Caxton  E.)  ....  1400-1500 

Early  Modern  English  (Tudor  E.  ; E.  of  Shakspere)  1500-1650 
Late  Modern  English 1650- 

English,  during  the  Middle  English  period,  appears 
in  five  dialects : Northern,  East  Midland,  West  Mid 
land,  South-western,  and  Kentish.  Chaucer’s  lan- 
guage is  mainly  East  Midland.  There  were  influences, 
independent  of  his,  that  could  have  made  this  dialect 
the  standard.  It  has  become  the  standard;  and 


THE  MAN 


199 


Chaucer’s  poems  are  more  intelligible  to-day  than 
poems  written  in  the  other  dialects. 


THE  MAN 

The  poet  sings  to  strangers  of  Chanticleer  and  Park 
let,  of  Palamon  and  Arcite,  of  an  imaginary  band  of 
pilgrims.  If  Chaucer  appears  in  the  poem,  he  may 
be  transformed,  as  everything  else  is  transformed,  by 
the  imagination.  A single  stately  line,  — 

“ The  chambres  and  the  stables  weren  wide"  28 

gives  the  Tabard  whatever  dimensions  we  may  wish. 
The  art  that  omits  from  the  Prologue  a description  of 
Chaucer,  to  introduce  later  the  host’s  bantering  char- 
acterization of  him,  tells  in  what  realm  we  are : — 

“ What  man  artow f"  quod  he; 

“ Thou  lokest  as  thou  woldest  finde  an  hare 
For  ever  upon  the  ground  1 see  thee  stare. 

“ Approche  neer,  and  loke  up  merily. 

Now  war  you,  sirs , and  let  this  man  have  place ; 

He  in  the  waast  is  shape  as  well  as  I; 

This  were  a popet  in  an  arm  tenbrace 
For  any  womman,  smal  and  fair  of  face. 

He  semeth  elvish  by  his  contenaunce . 

For  unto  no  wight  doth  he  daliaunce — B.  1894. 


200 


THE  MAN 


The  man  appears  again  as  the  poet  chooses  to  rep 
resent  him  in : — 

“ Wherfor , as  I seyde , y-wis , 

Jupiter  consider eth  this , 

And  also , 5eaa  s£r,  other  thinges : 

That  is , that  thou  hast  no  tidinges 
Of  Loves  folk , i/  they  be  glade , 

JVe  0/ nought  elles  that  God  made; 

And  nought  only  fro  fer  contree 
That  ther  no  tiding  comth  to  thee , 

0/  thy  verray  neighebores , 

That  dwellen  almost  at  thy  dores , 

T7iow  herest  neither  that  nor  this; 

For  whan  thy  labour  doon  al  is 
And  hast  y-maad  thy  rekeninges , 

In  stede  of  reste  and  newe  thinges 
Thou  gost  hoom  to  thy  house  anoon; 

And , aZso  dorafr  as  any  stoon , 

TTfcow  sittest  at  another  boke, 

Til  fully  daswed  is  thy  loke , 

Zii?es£  £Aws  as  ara  heremite , 

Although  thyn  abstinence  is  UteV 

— The  House  of  Fame . 660 

Even  the  poor  verse  in  which  he  laments  his  poverty 
ought  not  to  be  taken  literally,  unless  confirmed  from 
other  sources : — 

“ iVow,  pur*,  £fta£  to  me  my  lives  light, 

And  saveour , as  cfouw  in  this  worlde  here, 

Out  of  this  toune  help  me  through  your  might , 

Sin  that  ye  wole  nat  been  my  tresorere  ; 


THE  MAN 


201 


For  I am  shave  as  nye  as  any  frere . 

But  yit  I pray  unto  your  curtesy  e: 

Beth  hevy  ageyn , or  elles  mot  I dye.” 

The  verses  of  brother  poets  say  nothing  about  his 
life  and  only  put  in  words  the  admiration  they  feel. 
Here  is  the  stanza  of  Hoccleve’s  poem,  The  Gov- 
email  of  Princes , that  explains  the  origin  of  the 
portrait : — 

“ Although  his  lyf  be  queynt , the  resemblaunce 
Of  him  hath  in  me  so  fresh  lyflinesse 
That , to  put  other e men  in  remembr ounce 
Of  his  persone,  I have  heer  his  lyknesse 
Do  make , to  this  ende , in  sothfastnesse, 

That  they  that  have  of  him  lest  thought  and  minde , 
By  this  peynt ure  may  ageyn  him  finde.” 

The  little  that  we  know  of  the  man’s  doings  as  dis- 
tinguished from  the  poet’s  imaginings  is  derived  from 
contemporary  records.  These  were  carefully  written 
and  have  been  dutifully  preserved.  Some  had  been 
used,  however,  in  binding  books,  and  were  discovered 
as  recently  as  1857  by  Dr.  Edward  A.  Bond.  The 
language  of  these  records  is  a much  abbreviated  Latin 
or  French : — 

Jur  divsor  Hundr  Com  pdci,  alias,  scilt  tmio  sci  Hil- 
lar  . . . coram  Dno  Rege  apud  Westm  psent,  quod 
Ric  Brerelay  felonice  depda vit  Galfrm  Chauser,  etc. 

Cuid  Paltomakare  Lond  pro  j.  paltok  ...  lib 


202 


THE  MAN 


Galfr.  Chaucer  de  cons  dono  dne  ib,  eiisd  die  et  ao 
IIII.s. 

From  such  sources  conclusions  have  been  drawn 
which  are  here  set  down  in  part  without  any  attempt 
to  assign  even  vaguely  the  degree  of  their  probability. 

The  father  of  Geoffrey  was  John  Chaucer,  citizen 
and  vintner  of  London.  Full  fifteen  years  after  Geof- 
frey’s birth,  an  accountant  in  the  household  of  Eliza- 
beth de  Burgh,  Countess  of  Ulster  and  wife  of  Lionel, 
third  son  of  Edward  III,  records  that  at  London  in 
1358  there  was  furnished  to  Galfridus  Chaucer  a pal- 
tock,  or  short  cloak,  a pair  of  red  and  black  breeches, 
and  a pair  of  shoes,  the  whole  costing  seven  shillings 
(one  hundred,  present  value) ; and  at  Hatfield,  York- 
shire, in  December,  1357,  there  was  paid  to  Galfridus 
Chaucer  two  shillings  and  sixpence  for  necessaries  at 
Christmas. 

In  1359,  according  to  testimony  which  Chaucer  him- 
self gave  in  1386,  he  was  taken  prisoner  near  Betters 
in  France.  In  1360  he  was  ransomed,  the  king  him- 
self contributing  the  large  sum  of  two  hundred  and 
forty  pounds  present  value. 

In  1367  Edward  III  granted  him  an  annual  pension 
for  life  of  twenty  marks  (two  hundred  pounds  present 
value),  in  consideration  of  his  past  and  future  ser- 
vices. In  the  document  he  was  styled  dilectus  valettus 
noster.  Noster  dilectus  (Our  esteemed)  implies  appreci- 


THE  MAN 


203 


ation.  Valettus  is  valet,  or  yeoman  of  the  king’s  bed- 
chamber. After  1372  he  is  called  in  the  records 
armiger  or  scutifer  (squire).  The  duties  of  these 
attendants  are  thus  enumerated  in  Edward  IY’s 
Household  Book : — 

DE  VALECTIS  CAMERE  REGIS 

“ Yeomen  of  Chambre  iiij,  to  make  beddis,  to  beare 
or  hold  torches,  to  sett  boardis,  to  apparell  all  cham- 
bers, and  such  othir  services  as  the  Chamberlaine,  or 
Vshers  of  Chambre,  comaunde  or  assigne;  to  attend 
the  chambre ; to  watche  the  King  by  course ; to  goe  in 
messages,  &c. 

“ Squires  of  Houshold  xl : or  moe  if  it  please  the 
Kinge,  by  the  aduise  of  his  highe  Counsell;  to  be 
chosen  men  of  their  possession,  worship,  and  wisdome ; 
Also  to  be  of  sundrie  shires,  by  whome  it  may  be 
knowne  the  disposition  of  the  Countries  : And  of  these, 
to  be  continually  in  .this  court,  twenty  squires  atten- 
dantes  on  the  Kinges  person,  in  ryding  and  goeing  at 
all  times ; And  to  helpe  serve  his  table  from  the  Sur- 
ueying  board,  and  from  other  places,  as  the  Assewer 
will  assigne:  . . . These  Esquires  of  housold  of  old  be 
accustomed,  winter  and  summer,  in  afternoones  and  in 
eueninges,  to  drawe  to  Lordes  Chambres  within  Court, 
there  to  keep  honest  company  after  there  Cunninge,  in 
talking  of  Cronicles  of  Kinges,  and  of  others  Pollicies, 


204 


THE  MAH 


or  in  pipeing  or  in  harpeing,  songinges,  or  other  actes 
marcealls,  to  helpe  to  occupie  the  Court,  and  accom- 
panie  estraingers,  till  the  time  require  of  departing.” 

It  is  recorded  that  in  1374  Philippa  Chaucer  re- 
ceived part  of  her  pension  by  the  hands  of  Geoffrey 
her  husband.  A pension  of  ten  marks  yearly  had  been 
granted  to  a Philippa  Chaucer  in  1366,  then  in  the 
service  of  the  queen.  John  of  Gaunt  gave  a pension 
of  ten  pounds  to  Philippa  Chaucer  in  1372;  and  in 
1374  he  gave  a pension  of  ten  pounds  to  Chaucer  and 
his  wife  for  good  services  rendered  by  them  to  the 
said  Duke,  his  Consort,  and  his  mother  the  Queen. 
Were  there  two  Philippas,  and  what  was  the  date  of 
Chaucer’s  marriage,  and  what  was  the  maiden  name 
of  his  wife,  are  problems  suggested  by  these  and 
other  records ; but  the  fact  established  is  that  Chaucer 
was  already  married  in  1374. 

. Entries  now  and  then  of  money  borrowed,  of  letters 
of  protection  against  creditors  while  abroad,  of  pen- 
sions paid  to  Chaucer  directly,  or  through  the  hands 
of  another,  serve  to  show  that  Chaucer  was  going  to 
and  fro  between  France  and  England,  sometimes  for 
the  war,  sometimes  on  the  King’s  service. 

For  about  eleven  months  from  December,  1372, 
Chaucer  was  journeying  as  far  as  Genoa  and  Flor- 
ence. He  was  joined  in  a commission  with  two  citi- 


THE  MAN 


205  • 


zens  of  Genoa,  to  treat  with  that  republic  for  the  choice 
of  some  port  in  England  where  its  merchants  might 
settle  and  trade. 

By  a writ  dated  at  Windsor  on  the  23d  of  April,  St. 
George’s  Bay,  1374,  a pitcher  of  wine  daily  was  granted 
to  him  for  life,  to  be  received  in  the  port  of  London 
from  the  hands  of  the  King’s  butler.  Writs  were 
usually  issued  in  the  King’s  name,  and  payment  in 
kind  long  survived  the  introduction  of  money.  A 
century  later  Edward  IY’s  Household  Book  says  of 
the  Squires  of  the  Household : “ Every  each  of  them 
taketh  for  his  Liueery  at  night  dimidium  gallon  ale ; 
And  for  winter  season,  each  of  them  taketh  two  can- 
dles parris,  one  faggott  or  elles  dimidium  tallwood; 
and  when  any  of  them  is  present  in  Court,  him  is  al- 
lowed for  daily  wagis  in  the  Cheekerroolle,  seauen  pence 
halfe  penny,  and  cloathing  winter  and  sommer,  or  elles 
fortie  shillinges.”  In  lieu  of  his  pitcher  of  wine  Chaucer 
himself,  in  1377,  received  money ; which  he  exchanged 
the  year  following  for  a pension  of  twenty  marks. 

It  was  in  this  same  year,  1374,  that  he  leased  from 
the  Corporation  of  London  the  dwelling-house  over  the 
gate  of  Aldgate ; was  appointed  Comptroller  of  the  Cus- 
toms and  Subsidy  of  Wools,  Skins,  and  Tanned  Hides 
in  the  Port  of  London,  being  required,  like  his  predeces- 
sors, to  write  the  rolls  of  his  office  with  his  own  hand, 
and  to  be  continually  present. 


206 


THE  MAN 


In  1375  he  was  twice  appointed  guardian.  From 
one  of  these  wardships,  which,  however,  was  of  short 
duration,  he  subsequently  received  one  hundred  and 
four  pounds. 

In  1376  the  King  granted  to  Chaucer,  as  Comptroller 
of  the  Customs,  the  price  of  some  wool  that  had  been 
forfeited  for  failure  to  pay  the  duty.  Toward  the  end 
of  the  same  year  Sir  John  Burley  was  paid  some  thir- 
teen pounds  for  performing  some  secret  service,  and 
Chaucer,  who  is  described  as  being  in  Burley’s  comi- 
tiva,  or  retinue,  was  paid  about  half  as  much. 

In  February,  1377,  Chaucer  was  associated  with  Sir 
Thomas  Percy  (afterward  Earl  of  Worcester)  in  a se- 
cret mission  to  Flanders.  Ten  pounds  were  advanced 
to  Chaucer  for  expenses,  less  than  one-third  of  the 
amount  advanced  to  Sir  Thomas  Percy.  On  the  11th 
of  April  he  received  with  his  own  hands  twenty  pounds 
at  the  exchequer,  which  the  King  had  given  him  as  a 
reward  for  divers  journeys  he  had  made  in  his  service 
abroad.  On  the  twentieth  of  the  same  month  letters 
of  protection,  as  was  usual,  were  issued  to  him,  to  ter- 
minate on  the  1st  of  August  ensuing.  These  entries 
alone  may  not  prove  that  Chaucer  was  concerned  in 
the  embassies  that  went  abroad  in  this  year  to  treat  of 
peace  or  of  the  marriage  of  the  Prince  of  Wales ; but 
they  prove  that  he  was  still  one  of  the  King’s  esquires, 
and  that  he  enjoyed  the  confidence  and  favour  of  King 


THE  MAN 


207 


Edward  III  to  the  last.  The  King  died  in  June  of 
this  year. 

But  Chaucer  continued  in  favour  with  the  advisers 
of  the  boy-king.  In  1378  he  had  some  share  in  an 
embassy  to  negotiate  the  King’s  marriage  with  a 
daughter  of  Charles  Y of  France.  It  is  true  his 
name  does  not  appear  with  those  of  the  ambassadors, 
but  he  was  afterward  paid  his  expenses  for  going  to 
France  about  this  time  with  the  same  object.  In  the 
spring  of  this  year  Chaucer  went  in  the  retinue  of  Sir 
Edward  Berkeley  on  a mission  to  Lombardy  to  treat 
with  Bernabo  Visconti,  Lord  of  Milan,  and  the  cele- 
brated Sir  John  Hawkwood,  on  some  military  matter, 
the  nature  of  which  is  not  indicated.  Here  these 
records  of  payment  of  wages  and  pensions  and  ex- 
penses, of  appointments  to  serve  in  some  undefined 
capacity  for  some  unexplained  purpose,  — records  that 
differ  from  thousands  of  others  only  in  containing  the 
name  of  Chaucer,  and  serve  rather  to  check  exuberant 
speculation  than  to  distinguish  Chaucer  from  the  crowd, 
— seem  about  to  disclose  something  more ; but  the 
name  of  John  Gower  brings  with  it  no  further  in- 
formation than  that  he  is  appointed  to  be  an  agent  of 
Chaucer  during  his  intended  absence  of  one  year. 

So  nothing  is  added  to 

“ 0 moral  Gower , this  book  I directe 
To  thee.”  — Chaucer’s  Troilus  and  Creseyde 


208 


THE  MAH 


and 

“ Grete  wel  Chaucer  when  ye  mete 

As  my  disciple  and  my  poete.,f  — Gower’s  Confessio  Amantis 

that  may  explain  the  relation  between  the  two  men. 
Now  Gower  was  not  only  a poet  of  three  literatures, 
but  a man  of  substance,  a Kentish  man  who  dwelt  in 
Southwark,  who  told  the  same  stories  as  Chaucer, 
while  they  both  borrowed  from  the  same  sources,  if 
not  from  each  other;  and  yet  the  three  instances  just 
pointed  out  are  the  only  direct  evidence  of  any  connec- 
tion between  them. 

To  Chaucer’s  previous  appointment  was  added  in 
1382  that  of  Comptroller  of  the  Petty  Customs  of 
the  Port  of  London,  with  leave  to  exercise  his  office 
by  deputy.  At  the  end  of  1384  he  was  granted  a 
month’s  leave  of  absence,  and  in  the  February  follow- 
ing the  privilege  of  employing  a deputy  in  his  old 
comptrollership. 

Through  October  and  November,  1386,  he  sat  in  the 
Parliament  at  Westminster  as  one  of  the  Knights  of 
the  Shire  for  Kent.  It  was  not  the  least  among  the 
commendations  of  the  ‘ Frankeleyn  ’ that  he  had  been 
Knight  of  the  Shire.  It  was  at  this  time  that  Chaucer 
gave  evidence  in  behalf  of  Sir  Kichard  Scrope  against 
Sir  Kobert  Grosvenor’s  claim  to  the  arms  “ Azure,  a 
bend  Or.”  Here  he  speaks  for  himself,  does  not  limit 


THE  MAN 


209 


himself  to  answering  questions,  but  tells  a story  which 
would  be  effective  with  a modern  jury  : — 

“ He  said  that  he  was  once  in  Friday  Street  in  Lon- 
don, and  as  he  was  walking  in  the  street,  he  saw  hang- 
ing a new  sign  made  of  the  said  arms,  and  he  asked 
what  inn  that  was  that  had  hung  out  these  arms  of 
Scrope?  and  one  answered  him  and  said,  No,  Sir,  they 
are  not  hung  out  for  the  arms  of  Scrope,  nor  painted 
there  for  those  arms,  but  they  are  painted  and  put 
there  by  a knight  of  the  county  of  Chester,  whom  men 
call  Sir  Eobert  Grosvenor;  and  that  was  the  first  time 
he  had  ever  heard  speak  of  Sir  Eobert  Grosvenor,  or 
of  his  ancestors,  or  of  any  other  bearing  the  name  of 
Grosvenor.” 

But  great  changes  were  preparing  in  England ; Chau- 
cer’s circumstances  were  changing  too.  The  connection 
between  the  two  might  be  divined  by  a man  of  great 
learning  and  broad  experience,  but  could  never  be  ver- 
ified by  any  one.  In  October,  1386,  his  house  in  Aid- 
gate  was  let  to  another  tenant,  and  in  December  of 
that  year  his  two  offices  were  held  by  Adam  Yerdeley 
and  Henry  Gisors.  John  of  Gaunt  had  been  super- 
seded by  the  Duke  of  Gloucester  in  the  administration 
of  the  government,  and  a commission  had  been  issued 
for  inquiring  into  the  state  of  the  subsidies  and  cus- 
toms. Now  John  of  Gaunt  had  been  Chaucer’s  patron, 
and  had  granted  a pension  to  Chaucer’s  wife. 


p 


210 


THE  MAN 


About  this  time  Chaucer  lost  his  wife.  Her  pension 
of  course  ceased  with  death;  and  in  May,  1388,  he 
made  an  assignment  of  his  own  pensions.  In  1389 
Richard  II  restored  the  Lancastrian  party  to  favour. 
Soon  afterward  Chaucer  was  appointed  Clerk  of  the 
King’s  Works  at  the  Palace  of  Westminster,  the 
Tower  of  London,  several  royal  manors  and  lodges, 
and  at  the  Mews  for  the  King’s  Falcons  at  Charing 
Cross.  For  this  he  received  thirty  shillings  a day, 
present  value.  In  the  following  year  other  duties 
were  assigned  him : the  repair  of  the  roadways  along 
the  Thames;  the  repair  of  St.  George’s  Chapel,  Wind- 
sor; putting  up  scaffolds  in  Smithfield  for  the  King 
and  Queen  to  see  the  jousts  in  May ; the  care,  as 
forester,  of  North  Petherton  Park  in  Somersetshire, — 
multifarious  duties  enough,  not  unattended  with  risks 
of  a certain  sort ; for  Chaucer  was  robbed  of  the  King’s 
money  twice  in  one  day  at  different  places  by  mem- 
bers of  the  same  gang  of  highwaymen.  Chaucer  was 
indemnified,  and  the  member  of  the  gang  who  appears 
to  have  told  the  truth  as  informer  against  his  com- 
rades was  hanged  because  he  was  defeated  when  chal- 
lenged to  make  his  words  good  by  battle.  Others 
were  hanged  later. 

By  the  summer  of  1391  he  had  lost  both  clerkships 
and  must  have  been  in  straitened  circumstances,  to 
judge  by  the  fact  that  even  after  he  had  been  granted 


THE  MAN 


211 


by  King  Richard  in  1394  a pension  of  twenty  pounds, 
he  received  petty  advances  from  the  government  and 
other  sources  on  account  of  his  pension.  In  1398 
King  Richard  granted  him  letters  of  protection  against 
enemies  suing  him,  and  a few  months  later  a tun  of 
wine  yearly  for  life. 

On  the  30th  of  September,  1399,  Richard  was  de- 
posed. Henry  IV,  the  son  of  Chaucer’s  old  patron, 
within  four  days  after  he  came  to  the  throne,  doubled 
Chaucer’s  pension.  On  Christmas  Eve,  1399,  he  ob- 
tained a lease  of  a tenement  in  the  garden  of  St. 
Mary’s  Chapel,  Westminster,  for  fifty-three  years,  or 
life.  It  is  probably  here  that  he  died,  on  the  25th  of 
October,  1400.  He  was  buried  in  Westminster  Abbey, 
in  St.  Benet’s  Chapel.  The  present  tombstone  of  gray 
marble  was  erected  by  Nicholas  Brigham  in  1556. 

Why  do  we  want  to  know  more  about  the  Man  ? 
Have  we  not  the  words  of  the  Poet  ? But  words  do 
not  interpret  themselves,  do  not  carry  about  with 
themselves  their  own  significations.  Some  read  with 
delight,  while  they  attach  to  the  sentences  just  such 
meanings  as  they  please;  may  charm  us,  too,  with 
their  divinations.  We  may  even  admire  the  Chaucer 
they  have  made.  But  for  others  the  question  remains, 
what  did  Chaucer  himself  mean,  how  did  Chaucer 
himself  feel,  what  experiences  and  memories  were 
his  when  he  wrote : — 


212 


THE  POET 


“ In  Southwerk  at  the  Tabard  as  I lay 
Bedy  to  wenden  on  my  pilgrimage.”  21 

“ In  Borne  she  hadde  been  and  at  Boloigne , 

In  Galice  at  Seint  Jame  and  at  Coloigne ” 466 

“Of  Northfolk  was  this  Beve  of  which  I telle , 

Biside  a toun  men  clepen  Baldeswelle 620 

What  knowledge  had  Chancer  of  these  places  that 
made  them  to  him  more  than  mere  names?  Was 
there  no  one  that  told  of  meeting  him,  hearing  him, 
seeing  him  with  friends  sharing  in  some  festivity  ? 
no  one  that  knew  and  told  of  the  death  of  the  prose 
Chaucer  that  had  walked  beside  the  verse  Chaucer? 

“ Infinite  been  the  sorwes  and  the  teres 
Of  olde  folk,  and  folk  of  tendre  yeres , 

In  al  the  toun  for  deeth  of  this  Theban. 

For  him  ther  wepeth  bothe  child  and  man.”  2830 


THE  POET 

Poetry  is  a compound  into  which  many  elements 
enter:  emotions  of  all  kinds  and  degrees;  ideas  gath- 
ered and  grouped  and  displayed  by  emotions ; and 
vocal  sounds  endowed  with  attributes  that  express 
these  emotions  and  ideas,  especially  with  the  supreme 
attribute  of  verse.  These  elements  vary  from  poem 
to  poem,  severally  rising  and  sinking  in  prominence, 


THE  POET 


213 


from  “ poems  without  words ” to  “ the  perfect  poetry 
of  meaningless  words.”  Many  would  add,  as  a fourth 
element,  some  visible  notation  of  the  voices  or  ideas  or 
emotions.  Of  the  poems  of  the  past  it  is  only  this 
last  element  that  remains ; what  was  once  of  minor 
importance  has  become  very  important  as  our  sole 
means  of  recovering  all  the  rest.  Philologists  have 
enabled  those  who  are  no  philologists  to  listen  to  a 
poem  of  Chaucer’s  if  they  will,  and  to  revive  the 
thoughts  and  feelings  that  were  Chaucer’s  if  they  can. 

Many  of  Chaucer’s  experiences  resemble  ours,  and 
their  revival  requires  no  effort ; there  are  indeed  such 
among  them  as  we  would  rather  expel  from  our  own 
minds  than  seek  in  his.  But  effort  is  required  to  com- 
prehend the  grand,  even  though  false,  ideas  which 
Chaucer  held  in  common  with  his  contemporaries ; 
and  for  all  our  endeavour  we  may  never  recall  his 
fairest  moments,  those  which  were  peculiarly  his  own. 

The  first  step  is  to  rid  ourselves  of  the  conceit  of 
the  twentieth  century,  which  springs  from  having  ex- 
periences Chaucer  and  his  fellows  could  not  have. 
Every  one  now  has  opportunities  of  knowing,  feeling, 
acting  in  ways  impossible  for  men  of  a past  long  sub- 
sequent to  that  of  Chaucer.  Deprived  of  all  these, 
one  would  feel  poor  indeed ; and  yet  how  rich  he  re- 
mains, This  wealth  of  his  consists  not  merely  in  his 
own  experiences  of  his  own  times,  which  we  see  re- ' 


214 


THE  POET 


fleeted  in  his  writings ; not  merely  in  his  share  of 
those  vast  structures  of  fancy,  of  faith,  and  of  knowl- 
edge which  an  after-time  had  cast  as  rubbish  to  the 
void ; but  in  sentiments  and  perceptions  which  we 
have  lost,  but  may  recover,  may  be  prompted  to  recover 
by  Chaucer  himself. 

Chaucer  died  a century  before  America  was  dis- 
covered. The  Eastern  Hemisphere,  as  we  term  it, 
stood  on  what  was  regarded  as  the  top  of  the  motion- 
less globe  of  the  Earth.  On  maps,  which  Chaucer 
could  have  seen,  the  land  was  represented  in  a nearly 
circular  form,  with  Jerusalem  at  the  centre.  Ho 
materials  existed  for  anything  like  a science  of  geog- 
raphy. It  is  now  condensed  in  a compend  for  chil- 
dren to  read  about  in  school.  Ho  foundation  for  such 
a home  of  the  mind  had  been  laid  by  geologists,  ex- 
plorers of  America  and  Australia.  Ho  poet  could  then 
hear 

“ The  moanings  of  the  homeless  sea, 

The  sound  of  streams  that,  swift  or  slow, 

Draw  down  JEonian  hills,  and  sow 
The  dust  of  continents  to  be.” 

To  the  geographer  there  appear  in  that  part  of  the 
earth’s  surface  known  to  Chaucer  numberless  counties, 
duchies,  principalities,  kingdoms,  or  whatever  else  they 
might  be  named.  These  have  since  coalesced  to  great 
states,  but  then  they  were  struggling  with  one  another, 


THE  POET 


215 


entering  now  into  this  combination,  now  into  that, 
swearing  allegiance  to  one  overlord  to-day  and  to 
another  on  the  morrow.  English  power  was  limited 
to  a portion  of  the  British  Isles  and  a few  contested 
provinces  in  France.  A Londoner  could  not  go  in  any 
direction  far  from  home  without  encountering  enemies, 
or  those  who  had  just  been  or  might  soon  be  enemies. 
While  still  on  English  soil  he  would  pass  amid  those 
to  whom  his  speech  and  ways  would  be  strange. 

Chaucer’s  knowledge  of  the  earth  and  of  what  was 
on  it  was  gained  from  his  own  journeyings,  from  fre- 
quent meetings  with  other  wayfarers,  and  from  the 
writings  of  travellers.  He  had  been  in  different  parts 
of  England,  in  the  Low  Countries,  in  France,  and  in 
Italy.  He  had  met  many,  and  “so  had  he  spoken 
with  hem  everichon,  that  he  was  of  hir  felaweshipe 
anon.”  It  was  a time  of  goings  to  and  fro,  and  it  was 
not  only  the  “good  Wyf  of  biside  Bathe”  that  “thryes 
hadde  been  at  Jerusalem,”  and  “coude  muche  of  wan- 
dering by  the  weye.”  He  had  read  such  books  as  that 
encyclopaedic  work,  the  “ Speculum  Majus  ” of  Vincent 
of  Beauvais,  of  which  Professor  Lounsbury  gives  an 
entertaining  account. 

But  what  has  geography  to  do  with  poetry  ? No 
poet  would  shock  the  geographic  sense,  for  there  is  a 
geographic  sense,  scorned  though  it  may  be  by  those 
who  have  none.  There  are,  too,  in  the  range  of  its 


216 


THE  POET 


knowledge  places  about  which  it  loves  to  linger.  Their 
very  names,  besides,  are  fragments  of  poems,  and  crave 
restitution  to  verse.  You  may  not  care  to  look  beyond 
the  name.  You  may  doubt  whether  Milton  had  a very 
distinct  vision  of : — 

“ Mombaza  and  Quiloa  and  Melind 
And  Sofala  (thought  Ophir ),  to  the  realm 
Of  Congo  and  Angola  farthest  south , 

And  thence  from  Niger  flood  to  Atlas  mount , 

The  kingdoms  of  Almansor , Fez  and  Sus , 

Morocco  and  Algiers  and  Tremisen." 

You  may  know  that  Pope  cared  little  for  sites  that 
were  dear  to  some  Greek  singer : — 

“ Onchestus , Neptune's  celebrated  groves , 

Copce  and  Thisbe , famed  for  silver  doves  • 

For  flocks  Erythrce , Glissa  for  the  vine  ; 

Platea  green , and  Nysa  the  divine. 

And  they  ivhom  Thebe's  well-built  walls  enclose , 

Where  Myde , Eutresis,  Corone  rose  ; 

And  Arne  rich , with  purple  harvests  crowned  ; 

And  Anthedon  Bceotia's  utmost  bound." 

We  do  not  find  in  Chaucer  sound  without  sense,  and 
of  all  the  places  outside  the  regions  of  fancy  and  his- 
tory that  he  mentions,  he  could  have  had  a clear  com 
ception,  — of  South werk,  Caunterbury,  Baldeswelle, 
Dertemouthe,  and  even  of  the  places  that  some  knight 
returning  from  the  wars  might  describe ; for 


THE  POET 


217 


In  Gernade  at  the  sege  eke  hadde  he  be 
Of  Algezir , and  riden  in  Belmarye. 

At  Lyeigs  was  he,  and  at  Satalye , 

Whan  they  were  wonne.  59 

And  so  we  gain  somehow  the  conviction  that  these 
names  were  not  meaningless  to  him,  however  faint 
may  be  the  impression  which  they  make  on  our  mind. 
His  geography  was  not  a science,  for  science  is  not 
made  of  ignorances  or  misconceptions,  or  even  of 
knowledges  that  stand  apart.  It  was  not  a book  of 
places  and  names  for  which  he  cared  nothing.  It  was 
the  poet’s  selection  of  what  interested  him,  and  he 
supposed  would  interest  others.  But  what  is  poetry 
to  one  need  not  be  poetry  to  another,  and  what  was 
poetry  once  may  have  ceased  to  be  poetry,  though  it 
still  bears  the  name,  — ceased,  that  is,  for  us,  — or 
not  yet  begun  to  be.  Students  who  fancied  them- 
selves indifferent  to  poetry  have  shown  eagerness 
about  our  poet’s  geography.  This  is  one  mystery  of 
the  poet’s  craft. 

It  was  a century  and  a half  after  the  death  of 
Chaucer  that  the  thoughts  of  Copernicus  about  the 
revolution  of  the  heavenly  bodies  were  made  known 
to  the  world.  The  colours  and  lights  of  the  skies,  their 
blue  expanses  and  manifold  centres  of  brightness  and 
warmth,  are  nearer  to  some  of  us  than  ever  they  were 
before ; we  may  think  of  them  as  wrapped  about  us, 


218 


THE  POET 


or  of  ourselves  as  immersed  in  them,  or  not  of  our- 
selves at  all,  but  of  them  only ; and  this  we  can  do, 
because  we  are  able  to  refrain,  some  of  us,  from  im- 
agining machineries  or  agencies,  spheres  or  spirits, 
associated  somehow  with  the  sights  we  feel.  This 
Chaucer  could  not  do,  and  Copernicus  could  not  do, 
but  we  can  understand  that  Chaucer  put  one  interpre- 
tation on  what  his  eyes  beheld,  and  Copernicus  put 
another  on  what  his  eyes  beheld ; and  yet  what  the  eyes 
of  both  could  see  was  probably  as  restricted  as  our  own 
vision.  Chaucer’s  deepest,  firmest  thought  of  the  stars, 
the  fixed  or  the  wandering  (and  for  him  the  sun  and 
moon  are  among  the  wandering  stars,  or  planets),  it 
may  be  reserved  for  others  to  discover.  The  “ good 
man  of  religioun,”  the  “ clerk  that  unto  logik  hadde 
longe  y-go,”  the  “ verray  parfit,  gentil  knight  ” might 
hear  Chaucer  discourse  of  these  matters  as  they  strolled 
by  themselves  over  Kentish  downs,  while  Keve  and 
Millere,  Pardoner  and  Somnour,  were  otherwise  occu- 
pied. Perhaps  no  conclusions  seemed  to  him  so  good 
that  better  might  not  lurk  behind.  He  was  a poet 
with  an  imagination,  not  a scientist  with  a theory  oi 
a philosopher  with  a system.  What  was  the  Sun  tc 
Chaucer  ? and  could  Saturn  disturb  his  mind  by  being 
in  this  or  that  part  of  the  zodiac  ? Of  certain  rules  of 
astrology  he  says:  “Natheles,  thise  ben  observaunces 
of  judicial  matiere  and  rites  of  payens,  in  which  my 


THE  POET 


219 


spirit  ne  hath  no  feith.”  But  the  age  was  pervaded 
by  the  belief  that  the  astrologer  knew  just  what  was 
portended  by  each  of  the  numerous  configurations  of 
the  heavens;  and  it  may  well  be  that  in  rejecting  this 
belief  he  still  retained  a sense  of  the  reality  of  the 
unknown  influence.  At  all  events,  he  knows  the  doc- 
trines of  the  astrologers,  and  often  speaks  their  speech 
if  he  does  not  think  their  thought. 

It  is  certain  that  Chaucer  knew  his  universe,  if  not 
for  astrological  reasons,  if  not  for  the  mere  delight  of 
knowing,  yet  for  the  purely  practical  purpose  of  being 
able  to  tell  the  time  of  day  and  the  progress  of  the 
year.  It  is  not  the  poet’s  perception  of  new  aspects  of 
things,  it  is  not  the  versifier’s  need  of  an  available  stock 
of  phrases  that  prompts  him  to  say  that  “ the  yonge 
sonne  had  in  the  Bam  his  halfe  cours  y-ronne,”  or  that 
“ the  sonne  is  clomben  up  on  hevene  Fourty  degrees  and 
oon.”  This  framework  of  the  world  was  ever  present 
to  his  consciousness.  He  could  point  at  any  instant  to 
the  place  in  which  a planet  was,  as  well  when  it  was 
below  the  horizon  as  when  it  was  above  it,  and  tell 
what  stars  were  around  it  as  well  in  the  daytime  as 
in  the  night-time.  If  we  should  be  deprived  of 
what  we  know  of  the  additions  to  astronomy  since 
Chaucer  died,  would  as  much  remain  in  our  minds  as 
Chaucer  had?  Chaucer  not  only  saw  the  heavens 
with  his  eyes,  but  drew  “ conclusions  ” by  the  astro- 


220 


THE  POET 


labe,  and  wrote  a book  to  teach  “ litel  Lewis,”  his  son,  by 
means  of  u so  noble  an  instrument,”  “ to  knowe  every 
time  of  the  day  by  light  of  the  sonne,  and  every  time 
of  the  night  by  the  st.arres  fixe,  and  eke  to  knowe  by 
night  or  by  day  the  degree  of  any  signe  that  assendeth 
on  the  Est  Orisonte,  which  that  is  cleped  communly 
the  Assendent,  or  elles  Oruscupum,”  and  many  more 
things  besides. 

The  visible  universe,  that  is  to  say,  the  cloudless 
sky  that  he  might  see  by  night  or  by  day,  would  have 
sufficed  for  all  his  purposes.  He  could  not  be  aware 
himself  how  little  of  what  he  had  derived  from  the 
past  of  speculation  about  the  stars  was  necessary  for 
him.  Destroy  all  telescopes  and  microscopes,  all 
field-glasses  and  opera-glasses,  and  banish  from  our 
minds  all  that  they  have  helped  us  to  learn ; do  away 
with  spectacles,  which  indeed  were  slowly  coming 
into  use  in  Chaucer’s  century ; make  glass  itself  a 
rarity  and  a luxury ; and  we  have  left  a Chaucer  who 
knew  his  heavens,  who  could  shut  his  eyes  and  still 
behold  the  starry  sphere  as  it  whirled  above  and  be- 
low him  while  he  stood  on  the  top  of  the  steady  earth 
there  in  London  of  England. 

Adequate  though  this  would  have  been  to  all  the 
uses  of  life — this  vision  or  conception  or  imagination, 
or  whatever  else  it  has  been  called,  Chaucer  was  no 
more  capable  than  others  of  restricting  himself  to  it. 


THE  POET 


221 


The  realm  of  space  must  not  be  left  void.  It  had  not 
been  left  void  ; but  the  imaginings  of  science  so  called 
had  taught  Chaucer  that  the  planets  he  saw  were  but 
symbols  of  beings  whose  shape  and  nature  were  vari- 
ously described,  but  which  moved  round  the  earth  at 
different  distances,  the  moon  being  the  nearest  and 
Saturn  the  remotest  of  the  seven  planets.  But  imagi- 
nation did  not  stop  here:  it  contrived  mechanisms 
and  powers  for  moving  these  and  controlling  them ; 
concentric  crystalline  shells,  in  each  of  which  a planet 
was  set,  enveloped  in  yet  another  shell  in  which  the 
stars  were  embedded,  while  around  them  all  was  the 
primum  mobile , the  first  to  be  moved  by  the  power  on 
which  all  things  defended;  or  great  wheels,  each  of 
which  bore  round  a jjla net  fixed  to  a point  on  its  rim, 
or  else  carried  a smaller  wheel  with  the  planet  at- 
tached to  the  rim  of  the  latter.  Now  what  puzzles  us 
in  Chaucer’s  mind,  as  well  as  in  the  minds  of  those 
who  taught  him,  is  to  know  precisely  how  he  regards 
all  this  machinery,  whether  it  is  as  real  to  him  as  rock 
and  trees  and  stream,  or  a mere  image  with  no  reality 
besides,  a help,  perhaps,  to  the  thinking  out  of  where 
a planet  had  been  or  was  to  be. 

Is  it  strange  that,  when  their  planets  were  so  differ- 
ent from  ours,  they  supposed  them  to  have  the  attri- 
bute which  can  hardly  be  ascribed  to  our  planets,  of 
foreshowing  by  their  natures  and  positions  the  des- 


222 


THE  POET 


tinies  of  men  ? Is  it  not  strange  that  without  knowing 
or  having  means  of  knowing  a universe  different  from 
that  of  his  contemporaries,  he  should,  so  early,  have  re- 
jected beliefs  that  are  still  held  by  thousands  in  civil- 
ized lands  ? They  know  little  of  Chaucer  as  a poet 
even  who  have  not  tried  to  understand  this  part  of  his 
mind,  and  come  to  feel  something  of  the  love  and 
wonder  with  which  “ litel  Lewis  ” must  have  gazed  up 
at  him. 

We  may  ask  as  we  seek  to  explore  the  mind  of 
Chaucer,  what  were  his  notions  of  stone  and  earth,  of 
shrub  and  tree,  of  fish  and  fowl  and  beast.  Not  so 
unlike  our  own  notions,  perhaps,  as  our  great  systems, 
our  mineralogy,  botany,  zoology,  persuade  us  to  be- 
lieve. He  had  no  occasion  to  be  better  instructed  in 
these  matters  than  the  persons  among  whom  he  lived, 
to  whom  his  poems  were  addressed,  whose  applause 
and  favour  he  desired.  Hardly  more  than  a hundred 
names  of  plants  and  animals  are  found  in  all  his 
works,  mostly  of  common  herbs  and  beasts.  The 
body  of  a lion  with  the  tail  of  a fish,  the  feathers  of  a 
bird,  and  a human  head,  that  had  its  abode  in  a desert 
of  Asia,  and  happened  at  the  same  time  to  be  the  em- 
blem of  magnanimity,  if  it  were  not  of  turpitude,  — 
with  these  productions  of  feeble  imagination  Chaucer 
could  not  help  being  familiar;  they  abounded  in  the 
literature  of  his  time.  Any  puddle  can  furnish  stranger 


THE  POET 


223 


forms  of  life,  which  only  need  enlarging  to  become 
terrible.  Every  meadow  is  full  of  shapes  of  beauty 
and  loveliness  that  no  description  contains.  These 
things  he  had  seen  and  remembered;  but  he  seems 
sceptical  and  indifferent  in  many  matters  that  he 
could  not  test  personally.  Memories  and  emotions, 
however,  are  not  truths ; and,  in  spite  of  the  interval 
of  time,  the  scientific  student  of  natural  objects  finds 
less  difference  between  the  mind  of  Chaucer  and  the 
mind  of  Wordsworth  than  the  latter’s  declared  delight 
in  nature  makes  us  assume. 

With  what  were  deemed  sciences  at  the  time,  the 
sciences  of  God,  of  heaven  and  hell,  of  the  origin 
and  destiny  of  the  world,  of  the  soul’s  choices  in 
their  limitations  and  consequences,  he  had  a layman’s 
acquaintance ; at  one  time  manifesting  the  incredulity 
of  ignorance : — 

His  spirit  chaunged  hous , and  wente  ther 

As  I cam  nevere  ; 1 can  nat  tellen  wher.  2810 

at  another  time  gratifying  himself  and  the  audience 
of  his  day  with  disquisitions  on  Providence  and  Free 
Will,  that  bid  the  story  wait  meantime.  There  was 
not  even  among  the  readers  of  the  Waverley  Novels 
that  dread  of  loitering  by  the  way,  of  roaming  far 
afield,  that  haunts  our  specialists  in  style  and  art; 
that  repugnance  to  the  irrelevant,  the  inconsequent. 


224 


THE  POET 


which  pervades  a generation  that  models  its  play  on 
its  work,  and  makes  “ ernest  of  game,”  regulating  its 
very  sports  by  elaborate  codes. 

It  is  hard  to  fathom  the  mind  of  our  poet,  although 
it  was  no  Chaucer  who  wrote : — 

Vex  not  thou  the  poet’s  mind 
With  thy  shallow  wit ; 

Yex  not  thou  the  poet’s  mind, 

For  thou  canst  not  fathom  it. 

The  depths  and  shallows  of  Chaucer’s  mind  have 
been  sounded,  and  much  has  been  found  therein  which 
does  not  concern  us  at  present.  The  plots  of  his  sto- 
ries, the  incidents,  the  characters,  the  structure  and 
arrangement,  have  been  traced  to  their  sources.  He 
has  been  proved  to  be  indebted  to  others  even  for  his 
errors.  Quaint  misrepresentations  of  history  and  chro- 
nology— a Trojan  dame  that  reads  a Latin  poem,  a 
Grecian  hero  presiding  at  a mediaeval  tournament  — 
were  all  he  could  get  from  the  books  and  minds  around 
him.  After  all,  the  age  pleased  itself  and  knew  what 
it  was  about  better,  perhaps,  than  we  suppose,  and 
listened  to  poem  and  sermon  without  thinking  “ How 
easily  I could  prove  that  mistaken  if  I only  had  my 
‘ Dictionary  of  Dates.’”  Yes,  there  were  depths  in 
Chaucer’s  mind,  the  abodes  of  mythologies,  romances, 
religions,  fairy  tales,  histories,  tap-room  stories ; not  a 
fading  trifle  of  them  all  but  suffered  a soul  change  into 


THE  POET 


225 


something  English  and  Chaucerian.  Glorious,  enviable 
depths  there  were,  too,  of  ignorance,  — of  unfeigned, 
modest  ignorance.  He  could  say  of  the  Astrolabe, 
“Truste  wel  that  alle  the  conclusions  that  han  been 
founde,  or  elles  possibly  might  han  been  founde  in  it, 
ben  unknowe  perfitly  to  any  mortal  man  in  this  region 
as  I suppose.”  And  he  represents  himself  as  saying : — 

4 Hosted  quod  I,  4 ne  beth  nat  ivel  apayl , 

For  other  tale  certes  can  I noon 

But  of  a rime  Ilerned  longe  agoon.'  — B.  1899. 

Of  course,  any  profession  may  be  called  merely 
artistic  or  false;  and  where  novelty  and  originality 
are  no  merit,  whether  in  poems  or  furniture,  there  is 
no  modesty  in  disclaiming  them.  Chaucer  might  like 
to  be  regarded  as  intimating  to  posterity  the  hopeless- 
ness of  his  love  or  the  shrewishness  of  his  wife,  but 
the  poet  of  the  men  of  the  fourteenth  century  would 
hardly  relish  the  loud  praises  of  his  knowledge  that 
contradicted  his  conviction  of  his  own  deep  ignorance. 

LFrend , what  is  thy  name? 

Artow  come  hider  to  han  fame ?' 

4 Fay,  for-sothe,  frend  ! ’ quod  I; 

4 1 cam  nought  hider , graunt  mercy  ! 

For  no  swich  cause , by  my  heed  ! 

Suffiseth  me,  as  I were  deed, 

That  no  wight  have  my  name  in  honde. 

I woot  myself  best  how  I stonde  ; 

Q 


226 


THE  POET 


For  what  I drye  or  what  I thinke , 

I wol  myselven  al  hit  drinke , 

Certeyn , for  the  more  part , 

-4s  ferforth  as  I can  myn  art.' 

— The  House  of  Fame.  1882 

Chaucer’s  Englishmen  required  “som  mirthe  or  som 
doctrine.”  They  had  to  reform  the  Church  from  within 
the  Church,  to  protect  the  realm  from  invasion  by  car- 
rying the  war  into  the  enemy’s  country,  to  check  pes- 
tilence after  pestilence,  to  quarrel  toward  a settlement 
of  the  conflicting  claims  of  native  and  foreigner,  of 
employer  and  employed,  and,  while  only  half  aware,  to 
make  over  their  minds,  their  taste,  and  their  language. 
Chaucer  had  some  part  in  all  these  things,  but  particu- 
larly in  the  last.  His  way  triumphed  for  the  time, 
perhaps  for  all  time.  An  earnest  man  could  say  : — 

I can  nat  geste  — rum , ram , ruf  — by  lettre , 

Ne,  God  wot,  rym  holde  I but  litel  bettre.  I.  44 

How  many  felt  a difference  or  had  a preference 
between : — - 

Of  his  stature  he  was  of  evene  lengthe , 

And  wonderly  deliver e and  of  greet  strengthe.  84 

*****  **** 
Embrouded  was  he,  as  it  were  a mede , 

Al  ful  of  freshe  floures,  white  and  rede.  90 

Short  was  his  goune,  with  sieves  long  and  wide , 

Wei  coude  he  sitte  on  hors,  and  faire  ride . 94 


THE  POET 


227 


Sir  Thopas  wex  a doughty  swayn , 

Whyt  was  his  face  as  payndemayn , 

His  lippes  rede  as  rose  ; 

His  rode  is  lyk  scarlet  in  grayn , 

And  I yow  telle  in  good  certayn , 

He  hadde  a semely  nose . B.  1919 

Of  Chaucer’s  contemporaries  on  English  ground  there 
were  those  who  spoke  in  this  wise : — 

Perle  plesaunte  to  princes  paye, 

To  clanly  clos  in  golde  so  clere, 

Oute  of  orient  I hardily  saye 
Ne  proved  I never  her  precios  pere , — 

So  rounde , so  reken  in  uche  araye , 

So  smal , so  smothe  hir  sides  were , — 

Queresoever  I jugged  gemmes  gaye , 

I sette  hir  sengely  in  singlure  ; 

Allas!  I leste  hir  in  on  erbere; 

Thurgh  gresse  to  grounde  hit  fro  me  yot; 

I dewine  for-dolkked  of  lufdaungere, 

Of  that  privy  perle  withouten  spot . — The  Pearl, 

Pearl  1 fair  enow  for  princes ’ pleasance , 

So  deftly  set  in  gold  so  pure , — 

From  orient  lands , I durst  avouch , 

Ne'er  saw  I a gem  its  peer , — 

So  round , so  comely-shaped  withal , 

So  small , with  sides  so  smooth , — 

TFfterever  I judged  of  radiant  gems , 

/ placed  my  pearl  supreme. 


228 


THE  POET 


I lost  it  — in  an  arbour  — alas  t 
It  passed  from  me  through  grass  to  earth. 

I pine , despoiled  of  love's  dominion , — 

Of  mine  own , my  spotless  pearl. 

— Gollancz's  Translation . 

.Really  the  range  of  the  language  in  which  our  poet 
spoke  or  sang  was  very  limited  indeed.  Even  within 
that  range,  among  lawyers,  churchmen,  courtiers, 
scholars,  you  would  hear  Latin  or  Anglo-Erench,  or 
French  of  some  kind  from  over-sea.  Chaucer  himself 
saw  his  English  displace  French  in  the  teaching  of 
children  and  the  guidance  of  clients  in  courts  of  jus- 
tice, but  teachers  and  lawyers  by  themselves  went  on 
using  Latin  or  French  as  before. 

But  the  language,  the  life  of  the  nation,  the  books 
of- science  and  history  and  romance,  the  sights  of  earth 
and  sky,  were  common  to  many;  what  did  Chaucer 
make  of  all  these  ? The  result  is  all  that  concerns  us 
here,  as  we  read  the  few  verses  that  this  book  contains 
with  some  consciousness  of  the  poet  behind  the  poem. 
With  the  names  of  the  earlier  works  one  can  familiar- 
ize himself  elsewhere.  He  must  seek  elsewhere, 
too,  the  accounts  of  their  contents  and  origin,  of  the 
times  and  occasions  of  their  production,  — interesting 
and  even  necessary  reading  for  those  who  cannot  read 
the  works  themselves.  He  will  learn  there  how 
Chaucer  taught  himself  by  practice  the  craft  of  the 


THE  POET 


229 


poet.  He  will  hear  of  his  French  period,  his  Italian 
period,  of  the  long  apprenticeship,  the  years  of  jour- 
ney-work that  made  the  master.  He  will  find  that  a 
French  poet  hailed  him  as 

Grant  translateur,  noble  Geffroy  Chancier. 

He  will  read  what  Lydgate  wrote  of  him : — 

This  sayd  poete,  my  maister,  in  his  dayes 
Made  and  composed  fill  many  a fresh  ditee9 
Complaintes , balades,  roundels , virelayes , 

Ful  delectable  to  heren  and  to  see : 

For  which  men  sliulde , of  right  and  equitee , 

Sith  he  of  English  in  making  was  the  beste, 

Praye  unto  God  to  yeve  his  soule  reste. 

And  as  he  goes  on  in  his  inquiries,  he  will  hardly 
fail  to  read  what  Tyrwhitt  wrote  a century  and  a 
quarter  ago:  “The  general  plan  of  the  Canterbury 
Tales  may  be  learned  in  a great  measure  from  the 
Prologue.  . . . The  characters  of  the  Pilgrims  are  as 
various  as,  at  that  time,  could  be  found  in  the  several 
departments  of  middle  life ; that  is  in  fact,  as  various 
as  could,  with  any  probability,  be  brought  together  so 
as  to  form  one  company,  — the  highest  and  the  lowest 
ranks  of  society  being  necessarily  excluded.  It  ap- 
pears further  that  the  design  of  Chaucer  was  not 
barely  to  recite  the  tales  told  by  the  pilgrims,  but  also 
to  describe  their  journey,  and  all  the  remnant  of  their 


230 


THE  POET 


pilgrimage,  including  probably  their  adventures  at 
Canterbury  as  well  as  on  the  road.  If  we  add  that 
the  Tales,  besides  being  nicely  adapted  to  the  charac- 
ters of  their  respective  relaters,  were  intended  to  be 
connected  together  by  suitable  introductions  and  in- 
terspersed with  diverting  episodes,  and  that  the 
greatest  part  of  them  was  to  have  been  executed  in 
verse,  we  shall  have  a tolerable  idea  of  the  extent  and 
difficulty  of  the  whole  undertaking ; and,  admiring  as 
we  must  the  vigour  of  that  genius,  which  in  an  advanced 
age  could  begin  so  vast  a work,  we  shall  rather  lament 
than  be  surprised  that  it  has  been  left  imperfect.” 

And  yet,  to  take  the  tales  as  Chaucer  meant  they 
should  be  taken,  even  the  modern  reader  needs  no 
more  information  about  their  origin  than  Chaucer 
himself  has  given;  but  he  is  rarely  satisfied  merely 
with  that.  The  Prologue,  though  it  has  been  shown 
that  Chaucer  might  have  caught  some  of  the  traits 
from  literature,  appears  to  be  the  result  of  personal 
observation  of  English  folk.  The  Knight’s  Tale  is  a 
free  adaptation  of  the  Teseide  of  Boccaccio,  with  some 
hints  from  the  Thebais  of  Statius,  and  takes  us  to 
great  cities,  to  courts  and  camps,  such  as  Chaucer  had 
seen,  whatever  their  date  and  name.  The  Nun’s  Priest’s 
Tale  is  an  “ animal  story”  which  Chaucer  had  found 
in  some  fable,  perhaps,  of  Marie  de  Prance,  or  more 
amply  sketched  in  the  French  Romance  of  Reynard 


THE  POET 


231 


the  Fox.  He  has  added  to  it  stroke  after  stroke  of 
fine  detail,  of  coloured  light  and  shade,  that  will  rest 
after  the  reading  on  every  farm-yard  you  shall  see. 

The  poetry  of  Chaucer  was  said,  recited,  sung;  it 
always  implied  the  reader  and  the  listener,  both  enter- 
taining and  both  entertained.  The  scenes  and  ideas 
were  already  their  common  possession  before  a word 
was  uttered,  and  a word  was  no  sooner  uttered  than 
understood.  Or  the  reciter  would  explain  a strange 
word,  making  his  explanation  sometimes  a part  of  the 
verse  itself.  He  who  wrote  what  a reciter  should 
read  to  men  of  wealth  or  leisure  knew  that  restful  ex- 
pletives must  be  introduced  and  dull  expositions  im- 
provised by  the  reciter  if  they  were  not  already  in  the 
poem.  The  poems  were  not  written  for  us.  We  and 
our  twentieth  century  are  utterly  unlike  any  experience 
or  vision  of  Chaucer’s ; and  it  is  precisely  this  fact, 
that  he  was  of  his  own  time,  and  not  of  a time  before 
or  after,  that  will  endear  him  to  Englishmen  more 
and  more  as  their  world  becomes  more  and  more  un- 
like his.  The  churches  where  he  worshipped,  the 
palaces  he  lived  in,  the  tapestries  he  gazed  on,  and 
such  armour  as  his  fellows  wore  still  remain  we  know 
not  for  how  long.  Chaucer’s  England  still  remains, 
imperishable  in  his  verse.  He  knew  no  other,  imagined 
no  other,  foresaw  no  other ; and  what  a precious  mem- 
ory his  verse  preserves  can  be  judged  when  an  aged 


232 


CHAUCER'S  WORKS 


philosopher  of  our  day  thus  deplores  the  passing  of 
the  vestiges  of  Chaucer’s  England  : — 

“ This  overrunning  of  the  old  by  the  new  strikes  me 
afresh  with  every  summer’s  sojourn  in  the  country, 
and  deepens  my  regret.  . . . Though  intensely  mod- 
ern and  having  but  small  respect  for  ancient  ideas  and 
institutions,  I have  great  pleasure  in  contemplating 
the  remains  bequeathed  by  the  times  that  are  gone. 
Not  that  the  interest  is  in  any  degree  an  historical 
one.  A guide  who  begins  his  daily  repeated  series  of 
facts  or  fictions  about  the  ancient  place  he  is  showing 
me  over,  quickly  has  his  story  cut  short.  I do  not 
care  to  be  distracted  by  it  from  the  impression  of  an- 
tiquity and  from  enjoyment  of  the  half-hidden  beauties 
of  the  old  walls  and  arches  made  more  picturesque  by 
decay.  And  so  it  is  with  the  old  rural  life  that  is 
rapidly  passing  away  as  towns  and  town-habits  and 
town-ideas  invade  the  country.”  — Spencer’s  Facts  and 
Comments . 


LIST  OF  CHAUCEE’S  WOEKS 

EXCERPTED  FROM  SKEAT’S  LIST 

Origenes  upon  the  Maudeleyne  (lost). 
Book  of  the  Leoun  (lost). 


CHAUCER’S  WORKS 


233 


1369. 


1372-3. 


1377-81. 

1379? 

1379-83. 


1382. 

1383-4. 

1385-6. 

1386. 


Ceys  and  Alcion  (first  issue). 

Romaunt  of  the  Rose,  lines  1-1705  (rest  lost). 
A.  B.  C. 

Book  of  the  Duchesse. 

Lyf  of  Seynt  Cecyle  (first  issue). 

Monkes  Tale  (parts  of ; first  issue). 

Clerkes  Tale  (parts  of ; first  issue). 

Palamon  and  Arcite  (first  issue). 

Compleint  to  his  Lady. 

An  Amorous  Compleint,  made  at  Windsor. 
Compleint  unto  Fite. 

Anelida  and  Arcite. 

The  Tale  of  Melibeus  (first  issue). 

The  Persones  Tale  (first  issue). 

Of  the  Wretched  Engendring  of  Mankinde 
(first  issue). 

Man  of  Lawes  Tale  (first  issue). 

Translation  of  Boethius. 

Compleint  of  Mars. 

Troilus  and  Creseyde. 

Wordes  to  Adam. 

The  Former  Age. 

Fortune. 

Parlement  of  Foules. 

House  of  Fame. 

Legend  of  Good  Women. 

Canterbury  Tales  begun. 


234 


ORDER  OF  TALES 


1387-8. 

Central  period  of  the  Canterbury  Tales. 

1389,  etc. 

The  Tales  continued. 

1391. 

Treatise  on  the  Astrolabe. 

1393. 

Compleint  of  Venus. 

1393. 

Lenvoy  to  Scogan. 

1396. 

Lenvoy  to  Bukton. 

1399. 

Envoy  to  Compleint  to  his  Purse. 

ORDER  OF  THE  CANTERBURY  TALES 

The  Prologue. 

The  Knightes  Tale. 

The  Miller’s  Prologue. 

The  Milleres  Tale. 

The  Reeve’s  Prologue. 

The  Reves  Tale. 

The  Cook’s  Prologue. 

The  Cokes  Tale. 

Introduction  to  the  Man  of  Law’s  Prologue. 
Man  of  Law’s  Prologue. 

The  Tale  of  the  Man  of  Lawe. 

The  Shipman’s  Prologue. 

The  Shipmannes  Tale. 

The  Prioress’s  Prologue. 


ORDER  OF  TALES 


235 


The  Prioresses  Tale. 

Prologue  to  Sir  Thopas. 

Sir  Thopas. 

Prologue  to  Melibeus. 

The  Tale  of  Melibeus. 

The  Monk’s  Prologue. 

The  Monkes  Tale. 

The  Prologue  of  the  Nonne  Prestes  Tale* 
The  Nonne  Prestes  Tale. 

Epilogue  to  the  Nonne  Prestes  Tale. 

The  Phisiciens  Tale. 

Words  of  the  Host. 

Prologue  of  the  Pardoner’s  Tale. 

The  Pardoners  Tale. 

The  Wife  of  Bath’s  Prologue. 

The  Tale  of  the  Wyf  of  Bathe. 

The  Friar’s  Prologue. 

The  Freres  Tale. 

The  Somnour’s  Prologue. 

The  Somnours  Tale. 

The  Clerk’s  Prologue. 

The  Clerkes  Tale. 

The  Merchant’s  Prologue. 

The  Marchantes  Tale. 

Epilogue  to  the  Marchantes  Tale. 

The  Squieres  Tale. 

Words  of  the  Franklin. 


236 


BOOKS  FOR  REFERENCE 


The  Franklin’s  Prologue. 

The  Frankeleyns  Tale. 

The  Seconde  Nonnes  Tale. 

The  Canon’s  Yeoman’s  Prologue. 
The  Chanouns  Yemannes  Tale. 
The  Manciple’s  Prologue. 

The  Maunciples  Tale. 

The  Parson’s  Prologue. 

The  Persones  Tale. 


LIST  OF  BOOKS  FOR  REFERENCE 

The  Complete  Works  of  Geoffrey  Chaucer.  Ed.  Walter 
W.  Skeat.  7 vols.  Oxford:  1894-97. 

Chaucer : The  Prologue  to  the  Canterbury  Tales,  The 
Knightes  Tale,  The  Nonnes  Prestes  Tale.  Ed. 
Mark  H.  Liddell.  New  York : 1901. 

Studies  in  Chaucer,  His  Life  and  Writings.  By 
Thomas  R.  Lounsbury.  3 vols.  New  York:  1892. 
A New  English  Grammar.  By  Henry  Sweet.  Pts.  2. 
Oxford:  1892-98. 

Principles  of  English  Etymology.  By  Walter  W. 
Skeat.  Series  2.  Oxford : 1887-91. 


BOOKS  FOR  REFERENCE 


287 


Words  and  their  Ways  in  English  Speech.  By  Janies 
B.  Greenongh  and  George  L.  Kittredge.  New 
York:  1901. 

Dryden’s  Palamon  and  Arcite.  Ed  Percival  Chubb. 
New  York:  1899. 

A History  of  Epidemics  in  Britain.  By  Charles 
Creighton.  Cambridge:  1891. 

The  Growth  of  English  Industry  and  Commerce 
during  the  Early  and  Middle  Ages.  By  W. 
Cunningham.  Cambridge : 1890. 

Chaucer,  in  “ Literature  Primers.”  By  Alfred  W. 
Pollard.  London  and  New  York : Macmillan. 

Geoffrey  Chaucer’s  Werke.  Uebersetzt  von  Adolf  von 
During.  Strassburg : 1883-86. 

Canterbury  Tales.  Ed.  Alfred  W.  Pollard.  London : 
1894. 

The  Language  and  Metre  of  Chaucer.  By  Bernhard 
ten  Brink.  Tr.  by  M.  Bentinck  Smith.  London 
and  New  York:  1901. 

Chaucer’s  England.  By  Matthew  Browne.  London : 
1869. 

English  History  in  the  Fourteenth  Century,  By 
Charles  H.  Pearson.  London:  1876. 


NOTES 


♦ 

1.  Whan  that:  omit  “that”  in  translating  and  slur  it  in 
reading.  You  may  wonder  how  it  came  to  be  introduced,  and 
fancy  that  it  was  merely  to  fill  out  the  verse,  since  Chaucer 
himself  dispenses  with  it  in  line  5.  Hero  is  one  attempt  at  an 
explanation  : “ That  ” goes  with  the  following  clause,  “ Aprille 
hath  perced,”  and  was  prefixed  from  mere  force  of  habit,  be- 
cause it  was  so  frequently  used  before  clauses  in  other  relations. 
Another  account : “ When  ” meant  originally  “ At  what  time  ? ” 
Its  combination  with  “that”  meant  “At  that  time”  or  “At 
which  time”  ; next,  “At  what  time”  ; whereupon  it  was  felt 
to  be  possible  to  omit  “that,”  since  the  tone  of  “when”  had 
changed,  and  there  was  no  longer  any  likelihood  of  confounding 
it  with  “when?”  There  were,  however,  many  influences  at 
work,  and  each  case  requires  particular  examination,  if  one  is 
really  interested  in  getting  a true  solution.  Compare  “while 
that,”  “if  that,”  “though  that,”  and  “which  that,”  “who 
that,”  and  particularly  the  more  intelligible  “after  that,” 
“ere  that.” 

3.  swich  . . . which  : this  correspondence  in  sound  and 
meaning  has  been  lost,  and  we  do  not  now  say,  “ Swich  they 
are  which  they  have  ever  been,”  as  a translation  of  “ Tales  sunt 
quales  semper  fuerunt .”  In  formal  language  “ such  ”... 
“ which”  is  still  used  ; but  generally  substitutes  have  come  in, 
239 


240  NOTES  [Page  1 

often  clumsy  enough:  — “ in  a liquor  of  such  virtue  as  the 
flower  is  engendred  by.” 

8.  the  Ram  : in  his  yearly  course  from  west  to  east  in  the 
sky,  the  sun  crosses  the  line  (equator)  in  March,  and  becomes 
“ the  yonge  sonne.”  During  the  first  half  of  April  the  sun  trav- 
erses the  last  half  of  Aries  (“his  halfe  cours  in  the  Ram”). 
The  ploughboy  of  Old  England  had  the  sun  and  stars  for  clock 
and  calendar.  There  was  then  in  every  one  such  a conscious- 
ness and  such  a remembrance  of  the  visible  heavens  over  and 
under  the  motionless  earth  as  he  never  has  who  merely  reads 
statements  of  what  astronomers  infer  from  things  which  plough- 
boys  can  see.  The  study  of  Chaucer  should  prompt  and  help  to 
recover  this  lost  vision  — to  see  the  sky  as  he  saw  it. 

14.  The  punctuation  is  approved  by  Liddell ; it  separates  this 
line  from  what  precedes.  For  like  separations,  see  lines  118, 
208,  388.  “ To  feme  halwes  ” is  contrasted  with  “ to  Caunter- 

bury”  by  “specially.”  Emphasize  the  contrasted  phrases  in 
reading. 

17.  martir  : Thomas  k Becket.  This  Archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury was  murdered  at  the  altar  in  1170.  Henry  II  did  penance 
at  his  tomb  in  1174,  though  previously  absolved  from  guilty 
knowledge  of  the  murder.  The  bones  of  Becket  were  en- 
shrined in  gold  and  jewels  in  1220,  but  burned  in  the  reign  of 
Henry  VIII,  1539.  In  1875  a Roman  Catholic  chapel  to  his 
memory  was  opened  at  Canterbury  by  Cardinal  Manning. 

19.  Bifel : What  befell  ? That  nine  and  twenty  came  into 
that  hostelry.  “ It  befell”  we  use  now  ; the  “ it  ” often  makes 
the  meaning  plainer. 

20.  Tabard:  when  few  could  read,  some  picture,  i.e.  sign, 
was  needed  to  show  what  business  was  done  within.  “At 
the  Sign  of  the  Glove,  the  Hat,  etc.,  in  the  Street  of  Trinity 
Church”  served  for  our  “At  217  Broadway.”  So  taverns 


Page  2] 


PROLOGUE 


241 


were  identified  by  some  object  suspended  without ; later  by 
some  representation  of  such  an  object  on  a board  ; and  again  by 
a mere  name,  as  u The  Jug,”  “ The  Pair  of  Spurs.” 

22.  with  ful  devout  corage  : there  is  no  rule  for  telling 
where  imagination  leaves  off  and  fact  begins  ; until  such  a rule 
is  found,  we  may  believe  as  much  or  as  little  as  we  please  of 
what  Chaucer  says  of  himself. 

24.  nine  and  twenty  : this  number  is  inconsistent  with  other 
parts  of  the  poem ; but  the  poem  was  never  finished,  and  never 
intended  for  those  who  find  more  pleasure  in  detecting  discrep- 
ancies than  in  reading  the  tales.  Besides,  it  is  a sonorous, 
verse-filling  number  ; it  coincides  with  the  narrator’s  counting, 
in  which  he  would  not  naturally  include  himself.  It  is  true 
there  were  “fully”  (wel)  twenty-nine. 

31.  So  hadde  I spoken:  the  “I”  in  this  line  need  not 
stand  for  the  author,  but  the  actor ; that  is,  the  reader  or 
reciter  of  the  poem  amid  a group  of  listeners,  — a frequent 
scene  when  not  many  could  read. 

37.  Me  thinketh:  “(to)  me  (it)  seemeth,”  “it  seems  to 
me.”  The  “to”  was  implied  in  the  “me”  and  the  “it”  in 
the  ending  “-eth,”  and  did  not  require  the  separate  expression 
which  they  came  to  need  later. 

41.  in  . . . inne:  the  instances  of  Multiple  Indication  are 
much  more  frequent  in  verse  than  in  prose,  in  earlier  than  in 
later  compositions.  The  relation  is  expressed  twice,  and  either 
“ in  ” might  be  dispensed  with. 

41.  that : any  group  of  words  might  be  treated  as  a single 
word,  and  might  be  replaced  by  a single  word.  Such  a word- 
group  is  sometimes  changed  (one  might  say  inflected),  or  marked 
by  certain  signs,  on  becoming  part  of  a larger  group.  The  vari- 
ety of  usage  may  be  illustrated  by  some  distortions  of  English 
phrases  rather  than  by  phrases  from  languages  you  may  not 

R 


242 


NOTES 


[Pagh  2 


Know.  . Let  “he  had  come”  form  part  of  a larger  group,  and 
see  how  we  might  have  spoken,  in  order  to  understand  better 
how  we  do  speak  : “I  was  astonished  that  he  had  come,”  44  at 
the  fact  that  he  had  come,”  “ at  that  he  had  come,”  44  at  he  had 
come,”  44  at  his  having  come,”  44  at  him  having  come,”  “at  he 
have  come,”  “at  him  have  come,”  “I  was  astonished  he  had 
come,”  “him  to  have  come,”  and  many  more.  “That”  was 
the  most  frequent  group-prefix,  and  came  to  he  used  to  indicate 
incorporation  or  subordination,  even  when  there  were  oth.r 
indications  that  might  have  sufficed. 

42.  “ at  a knight  ” is  as  plain  to  our  comprehension  as  44  with 
a knight.”  So  above  44  to  reste  ” is  as  intelligible  as  “ at  rest.” 
Such  differences  as  these  are  but  slight  obstacles  to  the  under- 
standing of  Chaucer.  They  may  accordingly  be  of  little  impor- 
tance to  us  now,  but  they  are  important  to  others  in  determining 
the  date,  the  author,  the  birthplace  of  a manuscript ; they  are 
facts  of  language  from  which  conclusions  may  be  drawn,  too 
far-reaching  for  us  to  discuss  now. 

43.  worthy : Chaucer  impresses  on  us  the  “ worthiness  ” of 
his  knight  by  the  repetition  of  the  word.  44  Worthiness  ” means 
complete  conformity  to  the  ideal  of  chivalry. 

45.  to  riden  out,  i.e.  abroad  to  seek  adventures,  to  gain  skill 
in  field  and  court,  to  acquire  knowledge  that  would  help  others. 
Distinguish  44  out”  in  this  line  from  44  out”  in  line  166. 

51-65.  The  map  shows  that  all  these  places  lie  on  the  boundary 
of  “ cristendom  and  hethenesse”  as  it  was  in  the  middle  of 
the  fourteenth  century.  The  scene  of  “his  lordes  werre”  was 
in  France  or  Scotland.  The  duration  of  his  distant  campaign- 
ing was  from  1344  to  1365.  His  son  is  twenty  years  of  age. 
The  date  of  the  pilgrimage  is  probably  1387.  The  knight  is 
then  some  fifty  years  old,  and  his  son  was  born  to  him  after 
his  return  from  foreign  wars.  The  last  of  the  crusades  had 


Page  4] 


PROLOGUE 


243 


ended  dismally  with  the  loss  of  Acre  in  1291.  The  Teutonic 
knights  had  sought  new  foes  in  Lithuania  and  Poland.  The 
knights  hospitallers  were  sheltered  in  the  island  of  Rhodes. 
The  templars  had  been  humbled  and  crushed  and  impoverished 
by  Christian  kings.  When  the  real  services  of  the  knights  as 
knights  were  no  longer  needed  under  changed  conditions,  the 
and  jjageantry  of  armorial  suits,  of  parades  and  tourna- 
ments, gathered  new  force,  became  established  in  the  hearts  and 
imaginations  of  the  peoples,  and  reflected  in  all  forms  of  art, 
notably  in  The  Knight's  Tale. 

60.  another  hethen  than  the  one  he  fought  against  “ in 
Tramissene,”  not  another  than  the  “lord  of  Palatye,”  who 
was  a Christian. 

68.  The  meaning  is  jdain  enough,  but  note  that  the  words 
“ that  ” and  “ were  ” would  not  be  used  now. 

74.  There  is  a double  indication  of  jdurality  here,  — u were  ’’ 
and  “ e ” in  u gode  ” ; “ hors  ” alone  may  be  singular  or  plural. 

80.  lovyere:  “ luvyer”  in  comic  ballads  in  dialect  might  be 
supposed  to  be  a misijronunciation  of  “lover.”  In  origin  and 
dignity  Chaucer’s  word  ranks  with  “lover,”  which  he  also  uses. 

80.  bacheler  : many  words  are  liable  to  be  misapprehended 
by  the  modern  reader  from  the  very  familiarity  of  their  aspect. 

87.  litel  space  may  mean  (1)  narrow  area,  (2)  brief  time, 
(3)  limited  opportunity.  Perhaps  (2)  was  alone  present  to 
Chaucer’s  mind  ; but  a poet  need  not  change  his  fdirase  because 
it  expresses  more  than  he  had  at  first  intended,  provided  the 
associated  meanings  are  not  mutually  contradictory,  but  each 
and  all  suitable.  The  manifold  implications  of  which  the  scien- 
tist or  the  philosopher  seeks  to  divest  his  terms  are  welcome  to 
the  word- artist. 

“ All  the  charm  of  all  the  muses  often  flowering  in  one  lonely 
word.”  — Tennyson. 


244 


NOTES 


[Page  4 


88.  lady,  for  “ of  a lady,”  came  to  be  written  “ lady’s,”  ex- 
cept in  a few  phrases,  like  “ Lady-day,”  u lady-bird.”  Chaucer 
is  not  dropping  an  “s”  or  taking  any  liberties  with  the  lan- 
guage ; he  is  simply  adhering  to  the  usage  of  his  time. 

91.  floytinge  : the  usual  meaning  given  to  this  word  has 
been  “playing  on  a flute,”  but  Flugel,  Jour,  of  Germ.  Phil., 
I,  2,  125,  thinks  it  here  means  “whistling,”  but  his  reasons  are 
less  persuasive  than  the  mere  suggestion. 

102.  him  (it)  pleased  (to)  ride  so:  “it”  and  “to”  have 
not  dropped  out ; Chaucer  was  not  conscious  of  any  omission. 
When  one  studies  the  English  of  any  century  preceding  that 
of  Chaucer,  many  features  of  Chaucer’s  language  wear  a dif- 
ferent aspect.  If  you  have  already  studied  Latin  or  French  or 
German,  you  will  easily  find  parallels  to  Chaucer’s  constructions 
which  you  do  not  find  in  modern  English. 

120.  SeynteLoy:  St.  Eligius.  This  saint  once  refused  to 
take  an  oath.  Some  think  that  this  story  was  well  enough 
known  for  Chaucer  to  believe  that  his  phrase,  besides  its  simple 
and  obvious  meaning,  could  also  be  surmised  to  mean  that  the 
prioresse  did  not  swear  at  all. 

121.  Madame  Eglentine  : script  falls  so  far  short  of  speech 
that  we  can  only  guess  the  meanings  that  Chaucer’s  voice  would 
have  given  to  this  description  of  the  prioresse.  Would  he  have 
read  this  line  as  a mere  statement,  or  have  imitated  the  tone  of 
those  who  called  her  Madame  ? 

“ It  is  ful  fair  to  been  y-clept  4 Madame.’  ” — Line  876. 

122-123.  entuned  : singing  the  divine  service  and  entuning 
(humming)  it  to  guide  the  singing  of  another  are  two  different 
things.  The  prioresse  could  do  both. 

125.  The  Anglo-French  of  the  Benedictine  nunnery  at  Strat- 
ford-at-Bow  (then  three  hundred  years  old)  was  a good  lam 


Page  9] 


PROLOGUE 


245 


guage.  The  prioresse  spoke  it  with  a somewhat  old-fashioned 
precision,  and  deplored  all  divergences  from  her  standard  of 
correctness.  This  amuses  the  travelled  Chaucer. 

127-136.  wel  y-taught : The  nun’s  manners  conform  to  the 
directions  laid  down  in  Le  Roman  de  la  Rose.  She  was  probably 
not  acquainted  with  the  book  as  Chaucer  was. 

131.  fille  : should  fall. 

144.  if  that  she  sawe  : if  she  should  see. 

149.  men  : not  the  modern  English  men.  See  Glossary. 

159.  peire : not  modern  English  pair.  See  Glossary. 

173.  seynt  Beneit : St.  Benedict  (480-543)  brought  monasti- 
cism  into  W estern  Europe.  St.  Maur  was  his  disciple.  Their  rule 
was  already  six  hundred  years  old.  ‘ 1 The  reule,’ 1 coming  before 
“by  cause,”  goes  with  the  nearest  verb  “ wras,”  like  the  Latin  ; 
but  unlike  the  Latin,  “it”  has  to  be  introduced  after  “by 
cause.”  Regula  Sancti  Benedicti  quia  vetus  erat.  See  lines 
2987-2988. 

177.  He  thought  nothing  of  this  text,  not  the  worth  of  a 
plucked  hen.  “Text”  and  “Scriptures”  were  used  of  other 
authorities  than  the  Bible.  The  second  of  these  texts  has  been 
found  in  writings  of  the  fifth  century. 

183.  Chaucer  had  talked  with  the  monk,  and  assured  him 
with  unsuspected  irony  that  in  his  case  the  study  and  hand- 
work would  hardly  serve  the  world. 

187.  As  St.  Augustine  (35^-430)  biddeth. 

192.  For  no  expense  would  he  hold  back. 

194.  The  finest  a land  can  produce. 

210.  The  four  orders  are  the  Franciscans,  the  Dominicans, 
the  Carmelites,  the  Augustinians.  There  are  many  popular 
names  of  each  order,  as  Black,  Gray  Friars,  etc. 

212-213.  This  friar  had  violated  his  vow  of  chastity,  and 
made  strange  atonement  to  those  whom  he  had  wronged  by 


246 


NOTES 


[Page  9 


providing  each  with  a husband  and  a marriage  portion.  And 
yet  he  sought  the  company  of  wealthy  and  respectable  men  and 
women,  and,  displacing  the  curates,  heard  confession  and  gave 
absolution  in  virtue  of  the  license  which  he  had  from  the  Pope. 
He  enriched  himself  and  his  order  from  fees  and  presents,  and 
thus  violated  his  vow  of  poverty.  He  professes  to  believe  that 
the  best  way  to  gain  favour  of  heaven  is  to  give  money  to  “the 
povre  freres.” 

232.  Men.  See  line  149. 

233.  “It  anciently  formed  part  of  the  dress  for  women  to 
wear  a knife  or  knives  sheathed  and  suspended  from  their 
girdles.”  - — Brand’s  Popular  Antiquities,  art.  “ Bride-knives.” 

242.  Better  than  he  knew  a leper  or  a beggar. 

244.  as  by  his  facultee : in  view  of  his  abilities. 

246-255.  There  was  no  punctuatiqn  in  the  manuscripts. 
Editors  differ  in  punctuating.  Punctuate  these  lines  in  as 
many  different  ways  as  seem  to  you  allowable. 

247.  “ delen  ” was  once  sufficient  where  “to  delen  ” was 
required  later,  the  relational  meaning  of  the  “to”  having  be- 
come very  general  and  vague.  Indeed,  so  obscured  was  its 
meaning  that  “to  delen”  was  treated  just  as  “delen”  had 
been,  and  “for  to  delen”  took  its  place.  “Eor”  is  now  dis- 
used. Can  we  suppose  that  “ to  ” will  disappear  also,  and  that 
we  shall  say  as  of  old,  “it  is  no  use  wish  know  such  things ” ? 

249.  ther  as  : I cannot  explain  briefly  how  “ ther  as”  meant 
“ where.”  It  is  not  likely  that  Chaucer  himself  knew.  It  con- 
cerns us  first  to  learn  what  Chaucer’s  phrases  meant  to  him. 

254.  Inprincipio:  the  “limitour”  introduces  himself  at 
every  house  with  “ In  principio  erat  verbum ,”  “ In  the  begin- 
ning was  the  word.”  The  Latin,  of  course,  inspired  simple 
souls  with  confidence  in  him  ; but  I do  not  see  why  he  quoted 
the  first  verse  of  the  Gospel  of  St.  John. 


Page  12] 


PROLOGUE 


247 


255.  ferthing  is  not  here  a piece  of  money,  a farthing,  but 
some  trifle.  Not  that  Chaucer  was  not  equal  to  representing 
the  friar  as  getting  a coin  from  one  who  had  not  even  a shoe. 

266.  harping:  “in  his  harping”  goes  with  “he  hadde 

songe,”  when  he  had  sung  to  his  harp.  Cf.  line  173. 

276.  kept  for  any  thinge : he  would  have  the  sea  guarded 
at  any  cost  that  his  goods  might  not  be  captured.  It  has  taken 
much  hard  work  to  secure  the  present  safety  of  the  seas.  Draw 
a line  on  your  map  from  Harwich  at  the  mouth  of  the  Orwell  in 
Essex,  England,  to  Middelburg  in  the  island  of  Walcheren,  and 
reflect  on  the  perils  of  such  a passage.  Professor  Hales  discov- 
ered that  for  four  years  from  1384  the  wool-staple  was  not  at 
Calais,  but  at  Middelburg,  and  inferred  that  our  merchant  was 
making  his  pilgrimage  in  one  of  those  years. 

278.  eschaunge  : what  any  one  in  commercial  countries  can 
do  now  as  a matter  of  course,  namely,  exchange  moneys  (coins) 
at  rates  agreed  on  was  then  kept  in  the  hands  of  officials.  “ Free- 
dom was  granted  to  merchants  to  exchange  with  one  another  as 
long  as  they  did  not  do  it  for  gain,  but  only  for  mutual  conven- 
ience.”— Cunningham.  Chaucer  does  not  say  that  his  mer- 
chant reaped  any  profit  from  his  money  changings,  nor  does  he 
say  (1.  280)  that  he  was  in  debt,  that  is,  had  borrowed  any  money 
to  put  in  his  business,  and  repay  with  interest.  Imagine  modern 
merchants  forbidden  to  do  this.  Yet  that  is  just  what  our  mer- 
chant was  forbidden  to  do.  No  wonder  he  was  circumspect  in 
his  management  (estatly  of  his  governaunce).  See  this  extract 
from  an  ordinance  of  1363,  quoted  by  Cunningham,  “Whereas 
heretofore  the  City  of  London  has  sustained  great  mischiefs,  scan- 
dals, and  damages  by  reason  of  certain  persons  who,  neither  for 
fear  of  God  nor  for  shame  of  the  world,  cease,  but  rather  do  daily 
exert  themselves  to  maintain  the  false  and  abominable  contract 
of  usury  (interest),  under  cover  and  colour  of  good  and  lawful 


248 


1 VOTES 


[Page  12 


trading ; which  kind  of  contract,  the  more  subtily  to  deceive  the 
people,  they  call  exchange  or  chevisance,  whereas  it  might  more 
truly  be  called  mescheaunce,  seeing  that  it  ruins  the  honour  and 
soul  of  the  agent,  and  sweeps  away  the  goods  and  property  of 
him  who  appears  to  be  accommodated,  and  destroys  all  manner 
of  right  and  lawful  traffic.” 

293.  for  (to)  him  (it)  was  levere  (to)  have,  etc. : he  had 

rather  have,  or  he  liked  better  to  have. 

297.  philosophre : alchemists  were  also  called  philosophers, 
but  this  philosopher  was  no  alchemist. 

318-320.  purchasour : “ Gower’s  verses  explain  the  word 
‘ purchasour  ’ in  a different  sense  from  that  which  has  been 
assumed  hitherto  (conveyancer)  ; they  show  that  the  expres- 
sion implies  a buying  up  of  landed  estates  which  the  lawyers 
were  able  to  effect  by  deceiving  their  clients,  bringing  them- 
selves thus,  to  the  detriment  of  the  country,  into  the  class  of 
the  great  landowners.”  — Flugel,  in  Anglia , Vol.  XXIV. 

323.  hadde  he  cas  : he  could  cite  accurately  the  cases  and 
decisions  that  had  been  reported  since  William  the  Conqueror. 

333.  complexioun  does  not  have  here  its  modern  meaning. 

337.  pleyn  delyt : he  held  the  opinion  that  pleasure  is  the 
highest  good. 

340.  Seynt  Julian  : St.  Julian  was  invoked  by  travellers  and 
pilgrims. 

353.  table  dormant : irremovable  tables  had  been  recently 
introduced.  Previously  a board  on  wooden  trestles  had  sufficed. 

355.  sire  : at  the  meeting  of  the  justices  of  the  peace  he  held 
the  highest  position  ; was  addressed  as  “ lord”  and  “sire.” 

356.  knight  of  the  shire  : representative  in  Parliament  of 
an  English  county,  as  Chaucer  himself  was  of  Kent  in  1386. 

363.  liveree  : livery,  from  meaning  anything  that  was  deliv- 
ered at  stated  times  to  servants  or  retainers,  came  to  be  limited 


Page  17] 


PROLOGUE 


249 


to  whatever  might  he  worn  as  a distinctive  badge  of  an  associa- 
tion, fraternity,  or  gild. 

371.  wisdom  that  he  can  : for  the  wisdom  that  he  knows, 
was  competent  to  be  the  head  of  a gild. 

377.  al  bifore  : before  all  others. 

385.  greet  harm : it  is  a pity  that  he  is  so  afflicted,  but  that 
does  not  interfere  with  his  making  prime  blancmanger  ; or  it  is 
a pity  that  one  should  be  so  afflicted  who  can  make  such  excel- 
lent blancmanger  as  he. 

390.  Sailors  are  not  noted  for  skill  in  choosing  or  riding  horses. 

395.  good  felawe  : “ a jolly  good  fellow,”  not  “ a good  fel- 
low enough.” 

397.  Burdeux-ward : framward  and  toward  were  some- 
times written  thus  : to  Burdeux  ward,  from  Burdeux  ward. 

400.  sente  hem  hoom : he  kindly  urged  them  to  leap  over- 
board, and  switn  in  whatever  direction  their  home  might  be. 

402.  daungers  him  besides : the  dangers  that  encompassed 
him. 

404.  Hulle  to  Cartage : apparently  the  northern  and  the 
southern  limits  of  his  voyagings. 

410.  Maudelayne : the  returns  of  the  custom-house  of  Dart- 
mouth are  still  preserved  in  the  Record  Office,  and  under  date 
of  1386  is  found,  “Navis.  Magdaleyne.  Peter  Risshenden 
sailed  21  Sept.  Pro  fabis  value  13s.  4d.” 

413.  To  speke  of,  etc.:  in  medicine  and  surgery. 

414.  astronomy e : the  kind  of  astronomy  he  knew  was  the 
positions  of  the  sun,  moon,  planets,  and  horizons  to  one  another 
at  the  date  of  an  illness.  From  these  facts  he  thought  he  could 
tell  what  to  do  as  well  as  from  the  appearance  of  his  patient. 
These  aspects  of  the  heavens  change  from  hour  to  hour,  and 
the  treatment  that  would  succeed  under  one  aspect  would  fail 
under  another.  This  knowledge  of  nature  enabled  him  to  rival 


250 


NOTES 


[Page  17 


magic  by  keeping  his  patient  in  adjustment  to  the  proper  hours. 
His  images  were  made  of  wax,  clay,  etc.,  and  could  be  treated 
instead  of  the  patient.  If  this  treatment  did  not  succeed,  it  was 
because  the  right  moment  had  not  been  chosen.  In  the  twenty- 
four  hours  of  the  day  each  point  of  the  sun-path  comes  up  in 
the  east  in  succession.  The  ascendent  of  the  image  was  the 
point  that  rose  just  as  it  was  being  made  or  treated.  The  doc- 
tour  “fortuned  this  ascendent,”  i.e.  made  it  lucky  by  waiting 
for  the  right  one  before  he  busied  himself  with  his  image. 

420.  hoot  . . . drye  : the  theory  of  disease  in  the  Middle 
Ages  was  itself  a disease.  Fire,  water,  earth,  and  air  were 
elements  which  had  in  varying  degrees  the  qualities  of  heat, 
cold,  moisture,  and  dryness  corresponding  to  the  four  “ com- 
plexions ” or  “humours”  or  “temperaments,”  melancholic, 
phlegmatic,  sanguine,  choleric,  and  engendering  diseases  by 
their  excess  or  defect  in  heart,  lungs,  etc. 

429.  Esculapius : myth,  fable,  and  history  were  distinguished 
differently  by  the  Middle  and  by  the  Modern  Age.  It  was 
possible  in  the  Middle  Ages  not  only  to  believe  that  Aesculapius 
had  lived,  but  to  exhibit  the  work  which  he  had  written.  The 
doctour  knew  the  principal  text-books  of  the  period,  — some 
Classical,  some  from  the  early  Middle  Ages,  some  (the  last 
three)  of  contemporary  authorship.  They  are  Greek,  Arab, 
Moorish,  and  English. 

441.  esy  of  dispence : slow  to  spend,  though  you  might  not 
have  thought  so  from  his  rich  attire. 

442.  The  pestilences  of  the  fourteenth  century  had  increased 
the  cost  of  living  for  the  upper  classes,  but  the  doctour  of  phi- 
sik  did  not  mean  to  let  that  deprive  him  of  his  superior  gains. 
These  pestilences  had  occurred  in  1348-49-62-69-76. 

443.  cordial : for  the  reason  that  gold  in  medicine  is  a sover- 
eign remedy  — for  just  that  reason,  and  no  other,  he  loved  gold ! 


Page  20] 


PROLOGUE 


251 


Gold  had  so  many  good  qualities  that  it  was  held  it  would  prove 
a good  medicine  if  it  could  only  be  rendered  drinkable,  durum 
potabile. 

447.  swiche  an  haunt : spinning  and  weaving  were  once  the 
work  of  households,  of  matron  and  daughter,  of  maid  and  man, 
either  for  home  consumption  or  to  exchange  for  other  things. 

449-452.  Contributions  were  not  taken  up  in  the  churches, 
but  laid  by  the  giver  on  the  altar.  The  humbler  sort  waited 
till  their  betters  had  gone  up.  “ The  good  Wyf  ” was  angry  if 
any  one  presumed  to  start  before  she  did. 

454.  ten  pound : they  were  large  enough  to  weigh  ten  pounds, 
but  Chaucer  may  exaggerate  sometimes. 

460.  chirche-dore : the  first  part  of  the  marriage  ceremony 
was  performed  in  the  church  porch,  the  couple  thereupon  ad- 
vancing to  the  altar. 

461.  compaignye  in  youthe : not  to  mention  previous 
suitors. 

465-466.  At  Boulogne,  to  worship  the  image  of  the  Virgin  ; 
in  Galicia,  at  the  shrine  of  Compostella,  where  the  body  of  St. 
James  reposed ; at  Cologne,  where  lay  the  bones  of  the  Three 
Wise  Men  of  the  East. 

475.  knew  perchaunce  : she  might  counsel  others  from  her 
experience. 

486.  cursen  for  his  tithes  : very  painful  would  it  be  to  him 
to  excommunicate  any  one  for  not  paying  the  tithes. 

489.  substaunce:  from  the  contributions  to  him  and  from 
his  own  income. 

495.  Upon  . . . staf:  (going)  upon  his  feet,  and  (holding) 
in  his  hand  a staff.  The  words  in  parentheses  are  not  needed 
for  the  sense,  were  not  thought  of  by  Chaucer  or  any  one  who 
heard  him.  Schools  sometimes  exact  a fulness  of  statement 
that  the  living  language  knows  nothing  of.  An  expression  ma} 


252 


NOTES 


[Page  20 


be  expanded  to  render  the  meaning  precise  or  unmistakable,  or 
to  restore  its  original  form,  or  through  inadvertence,  but  not 
merely  to  enable  it  to  be  parsed,  unless,  indeed,  parsing  is  a 
process  by  which  an  expression  is  made  more  intelligible  to  one’s 
self  or  another. 

498.  gospel : see  Matt.  v.  19  ; also  v.  13  for  what  follows. 

510.  chaunterye  : chantries  had  come  to  be  looked  on  as 
easy  berths  where  there  was  nothing  to  do  but  chant  mass  for  a 
dead  man’s  soul  at  stated  times. 

511.  been  withholde  : the  “Persoun”  is  indirectly  com- 
mended for  not  seeking  the  seclusion  of  a monastery  as  a release 
from  his  parish  duties. 

516.  despitous  : he  did  not  manifest  toward  the  sinful  man 
anger  or  disdain  or  cold  reserve. 

526.  spiced  conscience : he  was  no  Pharisee.  A spiced 
conscience  was  too  nice  for  common  folk.  In  France  the  gifts 
or  fees  of  suitors  to  judges,  either  before  (Skeat)  or  after 
(Littre)  the  decision,  were  called  spices  ( espices ) ; but  this 
may  not  have  been  in  Chaucer’s  mind  in  using  the  proverbial 
expression. 

529.  brother:  “was  his  brother”  maybe  so  spoken  as  to 
be  equivalent  to  “who  was  his  brother.”  There  is  really  no 
need  in  speech  of  the  double  indication,  but  in  print  “ who  ” is 
clearer.  Ploughmen  in  England  now  are  farm  laborers.  This 
ploughman  was  a poor  farmer  (lessee  of  land),  who  probably 
paid  his  rent,  like  his  tithes,  in  work  or  kind. 

534.  Both  in  joy  and  woe. 

540.  He  worked  out  his  tithes,  or  paid  them  in  kind  ; nothing 
is  said  of  money. 

541.  The  ploughman  was  not  a person  of  quality,  and  might 
not  be  disgraced  by  riding  a mare. 

548.  A ram  was  the  prize. 


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PROLOGUE 


253 


557-559.  Chaucer  appears  to  mention  the  characteristics  of 
the  “Miller”  just  as  they  occur  to  his  mind.  It  was  useless 
for  the  enumeration  to  follow  a principle  which  few  would  dis- 
cover who  read,  and  none  who  merely  heard. 

561.  “That”  refers,  of  course,  not  to  the  jangler,  but  to  his 
jangling. 

562.  The  American  reader  needs  to  be  reminded  that  corn  is 
not  maize. 

563.  thombe  of  gold:  and  yet  he  was  an  “uncommon” 
good  miller,  had  a thumb  that  could  detect,  after  the  wont  of 
millers,  the  slightest  variation  in  the  fineness  of  the  meal.  But 
besides  this  meaning  there  is  the  suggestion  of  the  proverb, 
“every  honest  miller  has  a thumb  of  gold,”  which  means 
“there  is  no  honest  miller.”  Compare  “the  wise  man’s  heart 
is  on  his  right  side”  and  the  following  from  Venn’s  Symbolic 
Logic:  “There  was  an  old  saying  at  Croyland  in  the  fens, — 
then  inaccessible  to  wheeled  traffic,  — that  all  the  carts  that 
came  there  had  the  tires  of  their  wheels  of  silver.” 

570.  took  by  taille  : gave  his  promise  to  pay,  which  was  a 
notched  stick  (tally),  scored  with  the  price,  and  payable  at  the 
proper  time  when  presented  and  proved  to  match  a similarly 
notched  stick. 

581.  by  his  propre  good : to  make  him  keep  within  his 
income. 

586.  hir  aller:  of  them  all.  “To  set  one’s  cap”  is  “to 
cheat  him.” 

594.  on  him  winne  : could  get  the  better  of  him. 

604.  ne  knew  his  sleighte : whose  trickery  and  deceit  he 
did  not  know.  “That.  . . his”  for  “whose”  is  not  uncom- 
mon now  in  conversation. 

605.  deeth : the  pestilence. 

611.  He  grew  rich  at  his  lord’s  expense,  and  yet  got  the 


254 


NOTES 


[Page  25 


thanks  of  the  latter  and  gifts  besides  for  lending  him  what  was 
really  his  own  money. 

621.  Tukked  . . . aboute : his  loose  surcoat  was  gathered 
about  the  waist  by  the  girdle. 

624.  ckerubinnes  face  : cherubs  were  painted  red  in  early 
art.  Cherubin  is  used  as  singular,  though  it  is  modified  from 
cherubim,  which  is  the  Hebrew  plural,  though  used  in  English 
as  singular. 

644.  thing  him  grope:  “thing”  is  either  singular  or  plural 
in  Chaucer.  Translate  “ in  any  other  point.” 

646.  Questio  quid  juris  : the  question  is,  what  is  the  law  in 
this  matter. 

652.  finch  : “to  pull  a finch,”  like  “ to  pluck  a pigeon,”  “ to 
shear  a lamb,”  etc.,  means  to  gain  something  from  a weak  or 
simple  person  which  he  would  not  yield  if  he  had  strength 
or  sense. 

655-656.  Erchedeknes  curs  : the  archdeacon  may  curse  your 
soul,  but  he  is  thinking  of  your  purse  ; he  may  threaten  you 
with  the  pains  of  hell,  but  he  will  punish  you  only  in  your 
purse ; he  may  denounce  such  things  as  you  are  doing,  but 
have  no  awe  of  him,  go  on ; you  can  buy  him  off.  So  would 
the  “summoner”  describe  the  archdeacon  to  the  “good 
felawe.”  But  Chaucer  professes  to  know  that  the  “somnour” 
lied,  and  that  the  curse  of  the  archdeacon  could  keep  the  soul 
from  bliss,  so  that  a guilty  man  ought  to  dread  it,  and  particu- 
larly to  beware  of  exposing  himself  to  a writ  of  excommunica- 
tion. This  was  called  a “ significavit  ” from  the  word  it  began 
with.  Some  modern  readers  may  suspect  Chaucer  of  indiffer- 
ence to  the  curse  of  a prelate,  and  imagine  that  he  sees  the 
irony  of  this  repudiation  of  the  somnour’s  slanders.  Who 
knows  what  Chaucer  really  thought  ? It  was  one  thing  to  see 
the  corruption,  the  inconsistencies,  and  absurdities  of  the  church, 


Page  29J 


PROLOGUE 


255 


and  to  set  these  forth  in  an  English  that  commanded  attention  ; 
it  was  quite  another  thing  to  doubt  at  that  time  the  doctrines  of 
the  church  as  men  afterward  doubted  and  rejected  them. 

663-664.  daunger:  “daunger”  does  not  mean  “danger,” 
nor  does  “ girles  ” mean  u girls.”  It  was  a terrible  thing,  if  it  was 
true,  that  such  a man  had  brought  under  his  control  the  young 
people  in  the  diocese  by  his  authority  to  summon  for  alleged 
violation  of  ecclesiastical  laws  — laws  that  sought  to  regulate 
all  the  most  intimate,  private,  and  personal  relations  of  life. 

669.  Pardoner : that  there  is  no  exaggeration  in  this  sketch 
of  a pardoner  Jusserand  has  shown  by  utterances  of  contempo- 
rary popes  and  bishops.  It  appears  that  there  were  genuine 
pardoners  duly  licensed  to  remit  penances  on  certain  specified 
conditions,  and  to  account  for  any  money  thus  acquired  to  the 
church.  But  false  pardoners  sprang  up  everywhere  who  forged 
bulls  and  licenses  and  relics,  claimed  power  to  remit  sins,  ex- 
cluded sometimes  priests  and  vicars  from  their  own  churches, 
or  brought  charges  against  them,  and  had  them  suspended  from 
their  functions,  and  spent  the  money  they  won  in  the  gratifica- 
tion of  their  own  desires.  They  were  suppressed  by  a decree  of 
the  Council  of  Trent  in  1562. 

685.  vemicle  : this  vernicle  was  a copy  of  the  napkin  of  St. 
Veronica  preserved  at  Rome,  on  which  the  image  of  Christ  had 
been  miraculously  impressed.  See  Mrs.  Jameson’s  Sacred  and 
Legendary  Art . 

695.  our  lady  veyl : the  veil  of  the  Virgin  Mary.  Lady  was 
used  where  lady’s  is  now.  It  still  is  used  in  lady-bird,  lady-bug, 
lady-day.  Not  so  very  long  before  Chaucer’s  time  they  wrote 
“ hlaefdigan ” ; in  Chaucer’s  time,  “lady”;  soon  afterward, 
“ladys,”  and  now  “ lady's.”  See  line  88. 

702.  upon  lond  : in  the  country. 

703.  Upon  a day  : in  one  day. 


256 


NOTES 


[Page  29 


706.  apes : he  made  the  parson  and  people  what  they  did 
not  want  to  be,  and  did  not  know  that  they  were,  and  also 
made  them  contribute  to  his  amusement  or  profit.  Why  not 
say  at  once,  “he  made  them  his  dupes”?  Because  I would 
suggest  the  scene  from  which  this  phrase  might  have  originated, 
the  showman’s  dancing  apes  in  a village  green.  I do  not  say  “ did 
originate,”  since  the  origin  of  an  expression  like  this  is  from  its 
nature  obscure. 

710.  alderbest,  from  “ ealra  betst,”  “ best  of  all.” 

715.  in  a clause:  elsewhere,  “shortly  in  a clause,”  and 
“ in  a litel  clause,”  all  meaning  “ briefly.” 

716.  Thestat : “the  estate,”  “ th’  estate,”  and  “thestate” 
would  differ  little  in  pronunciation,  and  hardly  affect  the 
verse.  In  line  708  we  might  write  “ noble  ecclesiaste,”  “ nobl’ 
ecclesiaste,”  “nobl  ecclesiaste,”  or  “ noblecclesiaste,”  without 
meaning  to  suggest  differences  of  pronunciation,  or  that  verse 
in  this  respect  was  read  differently  from  prose. 

720.  yow  for  to  telle  : but  now  it  is  time  to  tell  you.  In 
translating  into  modern  idiomatic  English,  note  (1)  insertions 
or  omissions  of  words  or  letters,  (2)  changes  of  word  or  phrase, 
(3)  change  of  order.  Do  not  do  this  at  the  time  of  translation, 
think  then  of  the  meaning  only  ; but  later,  when  you  have 
finished  writing  the  translation.  You  need  to  read  some  middle 
English  prose  to  feel  the  differences  between  the  word-orders  of 
prose  and  verse. 

733.  Everich  a:  “the  words  every  one,”  “every  single 
word.”  The  older  form  “ an  ” became  in  some  word-sequences 
“ a ” ; in  others,  “ one.”  Where  there  was  no  spelling,  or  where 
the  spelling  changed  with  the  sound,  and  even  now  with  our 
stationary  spelling,  a change  of  sense  tends  to  be  accompanied  by 
change  of  sound. 

733.  in  his  charge  : in  his  assumed  task. 


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PROLOGUE 


257 


736.  “ thing  ” is  plural,  and  means  “ things.” 

738.  He  must  say  one  word  as  much  as  another. 

741.  Plato  : Chaucer  knew  no  Greek,  and  quotes  Plato  at 
second  hand.  He  found  the  sentence  in  the  Latin  of  Boethius, 
and  translated  it,  “Thou  hast  lerned  by  the  sentence  of  Plato 
that  nedes  the  wordes  moten  be  cosines  to  the  thinges  of  which 
they  speke n.” 

744.  A1  have  I nat : although  I have  not. 

751.  our  hoste  was  : Chaucer  varies  his  phrases,  but  not  so 
that  a listener  would  notice  it.  You  who  are  reading  can  turn 
back  to  “ A Knight  there  was,”  “ With  him  ther  was  his  sone,” 
etc.,  and  compare  these  formulas  of  introduction  with  the  intro- 
duction of  the  hoste. 

760.  rekeninges  : made  up  our  accounts,  paid  our  scores. 

769.  “God  yow  spede”  still  survives  in  “God  speed  you,” 
for  which  the  modern  English  often  uses  the  later  form, 
“may  God  speed  you.”  There  are  similar  survivals  in  “God 
grant,”  “God  bless,”  etc.,  but  we  should  hardly  say,  “the 
blissful  martyr  give  you  your  reward  ” without  prefixing 
“ may.” 

772.  pleye  : Chaucer  had  often  his  choice  among  six  forms 
where  we  are  restricted  to  one,  — “pleye,”  “pleyen,”  “to 
pleye,”  “to  pleyen,”  “for  to  pleye,”  “for  to  pleyen.”  Note 
also  that  “ pleye  ” is  a dissyllable  before  a consonant,  or  at  the 
end  of  a breath-group,  and  that  “to  talen  ” cannot  be  replaced 
by  “to  tale  ” in  this  line.  Such  a light  final  syllable  is  said  to 
be  missed  by  the  makers  of  English  verse  to-day. 

777.  yow  liketh  alle  : if  it  pleases  you  all.  Chaucer  said, 
“if  me  liketh,”  or  “if  it  me  liketh,”  but  not  “ if  I like.” 

781.  fader  soule : for  “father’s”  Chaucer  has  not  only 
“fader”  as  here,  but  also  “fadres”  and  “faders.” 

783.  hond : sing.,  because  one  hand  of  each  is  meant 
s 


258  NOTES  [Page  32 

u Hold  up  your  honds”  might  have  suggested  to  Chaucer  that 
each  was  to  hold  up  both  hands. 

785.  Us  thoughte  : of  the  forms,  Me  thought,  Thee  thought, 
Him  thought,  etc.,  only  the  first  is  now  used  at  all.  “ We 
thought  it  was  not  worth  while  to  deliberate  upon  it.”  We  do 
not  express  the  thought  as  briefly  and  yet  as  simply  and  plainly 
as  Chaucer  did. 

788.  for  the  beste  : as  well  as  you  can,  as  best  you  can. 

791.  shorte  with  : to  shorten  our  way  with. 

799.  our  aller  : of  us  all. 

810.  othes  swore  : “we”  is  implied,  and  need  not  be  ex- 
pressed in  this  and  the  next  line ; later,  as  with  us,  the  insertion 
of  “we”  at  least  once  (with  the  first  verb)  became  the  rule. 

817.  heigh  and  lowe  : in  great  matters  and  in  small. 

826.  W atering : a watering-place  for  horses  at  the  second 
milestone  on  the  road  to  the  shrine  of  St.  Thomas. 

829.  woot : Chaucer  has  “ye  witen,”  “ye  wite,”  and  “ye 
woot.”  The  last  had  once  been  confined  to  the  singular.  Here 
he  obliterates  a distinction  ; he  retains  the  distinction  between 
singular  and  plural  forms  in  many  cases  where  we  have  dropped 
it  altogether.  Thus,  “ he  rad,”  “they  riden,”  are  respectively 
he  rode,  they  rode.  This  double  indication,  or  rather  triple  in- 
dication of  plurality,  had  ceased  to  be  necessary  for  the  sense. 

830.  This  line  stands  out  for  sound  and  sentiment  among  the 
host’s  utterances,  and  seems  to  be  an  appropriate  quotation 
which  should  be  rendered  with  due  solemnity,  as  it  recalls  to 
each  what  he  had  sworn  to  amid  the  festivities  of  the  evening. 
If  I tell  the  best  stories,  I shall  have  a supper  without  cost  to 
myself  ; if  I do  not,  I shall  pay  for  my  own  supper  and  a trifle 
more ; but  if  I refuse  to  abide  by  the  judgment  of  the  host,  I 
shall  pay  all  the  expenses  of  the  journey  ! 

833-834.  Compare  for  variation  in  expression  lines  805-806. 

839.  Cometh  is  plural  in  form,  but  singular  in  meaning. 


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THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


259 


THE  KNIGHT’S  TALE 

859.  olde  stories : 'this  tale  is  derived  mainly  from  the  Tese « 
ide  of  Boccaccio  (1315-75  a.d.)  with  some  hints  from  the  The - 
hais  of  Statius  (61-96  a.d.). 

860.  duk  . . . Theseus:  Chaucer  pictured  to  himself  the 
past  in  the  likeness  of  his  own  experience. 

864.  contree  : the  French  accent  to-day  “ contr^e  ” on  the 
last  syllable  ; the  English,  “ country  ” on  the  first.  The  accent 
of  this  and  of  many  other  Anglo-French  words,  like  u prestige  ” 
even  now,  was  not  fixed  in  Chaucer’s  time,  and  he  could  justifi- 
ably use  the  accentuation  which  the  verse  required.  In  reading 
the  verse  your  ear  must  be  your  guide. 

866.  Femenye:  the  kingdom  of  the  Amazons. 

885.  as  now  differs  somewhat  from  u now,”  not  “at  the 
present  time,”  but  “ in  view  of  the  present  circumstances.” 

925.  Thanked  be  : this  is  all  owing  to  fortune,  etc. 

926.  That  does  not  insure  that  any  estate  shall  be  happy. 

933.  starf : sterven  (1)  to  die,  (2)  to  die  of  hunger  or  cold, 

(3)  to  die  of  hunger.  (1)  is  the  old  use,  (2)  is  common  in  Eng- 
land, (3)  is  the  only  use  known  to  many  Americans. 

936.  losten  alle  : we  all  lost,  etc.  Make  a slight  pause  after 
“ alle.” 

943-944.  Connect  “of  alle  oure  lordes”  with  “the  bodies” 
of  the  line  following,  not  the  line  preceding.  If  these  questions 
interest  you,  you  might  find  instances  to  justify  the  joining  of 
“alle  oure  lordes”  with  “bodies”  of  the  preceding  line.  Such 
would  be  instances:  (1)  where  other  words  immediately  pre- 
cede “of”  ; (2)  where  a verse  ending  comes  between. 

957-958.  hente,  conforteth  : the  change  of  tense  (hente, 
conforteth)  may  have  no  meaning,  though  it  is  not  difficult  to 


NOTES 


[Page  40 


260 

assign  several.  “While  lifting  them,  one  after  the  other,  he 
keeps  consoling  them.”  See  a similar  change  in  line  966. 

977.  feeldes : this  needs  no  explanation  to  any  one  who 
knows  how  a hit  of  color  will  brighten  dp  a room.  The  whole 
landscape  would  fade  if  that  banner  should  be  furled. 

984.  thoughte  fighte  : where  he  thought  to  fight. 

1007.  diden  bisinesse  : were  busily  engaged.  We  use  uto 
do  business”  in  a very  different  sense,  and  we  do  not  use  “to 
do  cure”  at  all. 

1017.  best  in  special : especially  well,  with  no  manner  of 
doubt. 

1031.  “ Liveth  ” from  line  1028  is  felt  in  this  line  with  “ Pala- 
mon  and  Arcite.”  “In  joye  and  in  honour  ” is  contrasted  with 
“in  angwish  and  in  wo.” 

1038.  rose  colour  : this  is  not  rose-color,  but  rose’s  color. 
Rose  is  genitive,  see  line  88.  This  simple  and  beautiful  line  is 
transformed  by  a modern  translator  to  “her  complexion  con- 
tested the  superiority  with  the  rose’s  color.”  If  we  could  only 
learn  from  Chaucer  how  to  talk  plain  English  ! 

1045.  observaunce  : it  is  usual  to  quote  in  explanation  of 
this  phrase  the  accounts  of  the  way  in  which  this  “ observaunce  ” 
was  done  by  throngs  of  peasants,  and  anciently  of  nobles, 
spending  the  night  before  in  pastimes  in  the  woods,  and  return- 
ing at  dawn  with  flowers  and  branches  to  adorn  their  homes ; 
but  all  that  is  widely  different  from  the  tender  observance  of 
May  the  “parfit,  gentil  Knight”  tells  of. 

1047.  rise  : I have  already  called  your  attention  to  the 
variety  of  forms  Chaucer  had  at  his  disposal ; note  here  how 
freely  he  combines  them,  as  in  “ to  aoon  and  for  tc  rise.” 

1048  : for  to  devise  : to  give  you  a description. 

1051  : at  the  sonne  upriste : at  the  sun’s  uprising,  at  sui^ 
rise.  “ Sonne  ” is  genitive. 


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261 


1052  : her  liste  : as  (it  to)  her  pleased. 

1059  : Such  lines  as  this  give  an  air  of  truth  to  the  situation  ; 
the  knight  is  talking  while  he  rides  amid  the  listening  pilgrims. 
If  you  do  not  bear  this  in  mind,  they  may  appear  as  blemishes. 

1061.  hir  pleyinge  : her  “ pleyinge  ” was  in  walking  up  and 
down,  gathering  flowers,  weaving  a garland,  and  singing.  It  is 
better  to  think  of  these  things  than  to  substitute  some  modern 
phrase  for  “hadde  hir  pleyinge,”  but  perhaps  you  may  find  a 
suitable  translation. 

1087.  disposicioun : Saturn,  we  are  told,  means  harm,  and 
the  constellation  here  unnamed  might  mean  worse  harm  ; but 
the  really  “wicked”  thing  is  the  aspect  or  disposition  of  the 
two,  that  is,  the  angle  between  the  two  lines  that  join  the 
observer  to  each. 

1094.  veyn  imaginacioun : in  this  opinion  you  are  utterly 
mistaken. 

1097.  that:  we  w^ould  say,  “I  received  a hurt  that  will  be 
my  bane.”  Our  “that”  recalls  certain  words;  Chaucer’s 
“that”  recalls  the  thought,  no  matter  how  expressed. 

1105.  Yow  ...  to  transfigure:  to  transfigure  yourself. 
Note  the  change  from  “ thy  ” in  the  line  before. 

1121.  atte  leste  weye : at  least. 

1125.  Whether:  “Does  he  laugh  or  cry?”  was  formerly 
“ Whether  laughs  he  or  cries  he  ? ” We  have  lost  this  use  of 
“ whether,”  but  retain  a similar  use  in  “ they  ask  me  whether 
he  laughs  or  cries.” 

1127.  me  list  ful  evele  pleye  : I am  little  inclined  to  jest. 
(To)  me  (it)  pleases  not  at  all  (to)  play.  Jesting  would  be  a 
sad  pleasure  enough.  Note  how  brief  and  simple  Chaucer’s 
phrase  is,  and  how  “ bad,”  “sad,”  “evil,”  etc.,  come  to  mean 
“ not.” 

1132.  Y-sworn:  sworn  brothers,  fratres  jurati , freres 


262  NOTES  [Page  4? 

( Varmes , became  such  by  a pledge,  usually  accompanied  by 
some  ceremony,  not  without  superstition. 

1133.  peyne : each  had  sworn  rather  to  die  as  by  torture 
than  to  hinder  the  other  in  love. 

1133-1135.  We  say,  “ they  swore  not  to  hinder”  and  “they 
swore  that  they  would  not  hinder.”  Chaucer  says  here,  “ they 
swore  that  . . . not  to  hinder.”  Some  call  this  a blending  of 
two  constructions  ; others,  a change  of  construction  caused  by 
the  long  interval  between  “that”  and  “hinder”;  but  some 
feel  the  last  to  be  as  rational  and  natural  as  either  of  the  others. 
Consider,  “I  promise  this  : I will  not  hinder  him,”  and  “ I prom- 
ise this  : not  to  hinder  him,”  and  then  change  in  each  “ this” 
to  “that.” 

1142.  been  aboute  : “ What  is  he  about?  ” To  this  ques- 
tion, “ He  is  about  to  love,”  would  be  a jesting  answer  now,  but 
not  then.  It  meant,  “ He  is  taken  up  with  loving.” 

. 1153.  Thou  shalt,  etc. : “You  are  likely  to  be  proved  false 
rather  than  I”;  and  then  Arcite  rushes  to  the  conclusion, 
“ Nay,  you  are  false,  I tell  you,  utterly  false.” 

1155.  par  amour  : with  the  love  of  man  for  woman. 

1164.  That : do  you  not  know  the  saying  of  the  old  writer 
(Boethius),  that  none  shall  give  a lover  any  law?  Now 
change  the  last  clause  into,  “Who  shall  give  a lover  any  law  ? ” 
which,  as  implying  the  answer  no,  has  the  same  meaning  as  the 
assertion,  and  you  see  how  Chaucer  can  use  “that”  before 
questions  as  well  as  before  statements. 

1167.  decree  : laws  and  decrees  made  by  men. 

1168.  in  ech  degree  : in  every  class. 

1171.  she  : the  loved  woman. 

1198-1200.  olde  bokes  seyn  : this  incident  seems  to  have 
been  suggested  to  Chaucer  by  a passage  in  The  Bomance  of  the 
Bose.  The  friendship  of  the  mythical  heroes  Theseus  and  Piri- 


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thous  was  famous  in  antiquity,  and  the  legends  about  them  were 
distorted  and  amplified  in  the  Middle  Ages. 

1201.  nat  to  write  : this  “write”  is  an  oversight  of  Chau- 
cer’s ; he  forgot  that  the  knight  was  telling  the  story. 

1222.  To  sleen  himself  . . . prively  : to  slay  himself  un- 
observed. 

1225.  me  shape : now  (it)  is  (to)  me  appointed. 

1247.  creature:  “creature”  is  any  created  thing  living  or 
without  life.  All  things  were  supposed  to  be  made  of  four  ele- 
ments, and  these,  curiously  enough,  were  fire,  water,  earth,  air, 
not  one  of  which  is  included  among  the  eighty  or  more  elements 
of  the  modern  chemist. 

1259,  matere  : in  this  matter  of  thinking  that  we  know  better 
than  God’s  providence. 

1261.  mous : “drunk  as  a mouse,”  “drunk  as  a rat,” 
“ blind  as  a mole,”  “ silly  as  a goose,”  “ dead  as  a door  nail,” 
are  phrases  of  a type  that  the  taste  of  some  moderns  rejects. 
They  are  often  used  with  no  thought  of  the  thing  named  in  them 
— mere  phrases  that  have  come  down  to  us  from  a remote 
past. 

1279.  shines  grete : the  very  fetters  on  his  great  shins  were 
wet  with  his  bitter,  salt  tears.  We  might  regard- the  mention  of 
his  shins  and  the  incidental  suggestion  of  their  size  as  irrelevant ; 
but  then  many  a person  has  read  all  that  precedes  this  passage 
without  having  any  representation  in  his  mind  of  Palamon  and 
his  surroundings.  He  will  try  after  this  to  see  things  as  Chaucer 
meant  they  should  be  seen. 

1283.  at  thy  large  : at  large,  unrestrained. 

1284.  yevest  litel  charge  of  : care  little  for. 

1287.  sharpe  : to  make  a sharp  war.  We  have  lost  this  way 
of  speaking.  Who  will  try  to  turn  a few  sentences  of  hv*  own 
into  Chaucer’s  English  ? 


264  NOTES  [Page  54 

1301-1302.  lyk  was  to  biholde : he  was  like  the  box  tree 
or  dead  and  cold  ashes  to  look  on. 

1307.  holde  : what  more  is  mankind  considered  by  you  ? 

1317.  to  letten  of  his  wille : to  control  his  desires. 

1343.  to  ben  deed  : to  die. 

1344.  upon  his  heed : to  lose  his  head  if  he  returned. 

1374-1376.  lyk  manye : one  point  of  difference  between  the 

fourteenth  and  the  twentieth  century  which  this  passage  illus- 
trates seems  worth  mentioning.  Mania  was  less  withdrawn- 
from  the  public  gaze,  and  many  might  know  how  it  looked; 
but  the  learned  even  could  give  no  better  explanation  in  the 
lack  of  anatomy,  and  physiology,  and  chemistry.  In  the 
knowledge  of  what  can  be  perceived  and  easily  verified  they 
were  perhaps  better  off  than  we  ; but  in  matters  that  can  be 
known  only  by  inferences  tested  by  other  inferences  we  have 
made  great  gains.  None  could  prove  the  fanciful  explanation 
that  mania  was  caused  by  the  melancholic  humor  in  one  of  the 
three  cells  of  the  brain,  — the  seat  of  imagination. 

1385.  Him  thoughte : the  dream  was  an  artistic  device,  a 
literary  form  indeed ; but  this  was  only  because  it  had  previ- 
ously been,  and  for  that  matter  was  still,  considered  of  impor- 
tance in  the  actual  affairs  of  life. 

1389.  took  keep  : as  he  (Arcite)  noticed. 

1390.  took  his  sleep  : slept.  Chaucer  seems  to  think  in 

phrases  not  words,  and  as  little  to  avoid  the  repetition  of  the 
same  word  in  different  phrases  as  of  the  same  syllable  in  dif- 
ferent words.  * 

1402.  It  came  suddenly  (to)  him  (that  is)  in  (to)  his  mind. 

1416.  what  so  men  wol  devise : whatever  one  thinks  of 
for  him  to  do. 

1419.  The  which  that : who. 

1420.  aspye:  he  had  been  able  to  discover  in  respect  of 


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every  servant  which  one  served  her.  Compare  u To  knowe  with 
which  degree  of  the  zodiac  that  the  mone  ariseth.”  — Astrolabe, 
and  “That  litel  wiste  how  ny  that  was  his  care.”  — Line  1489. 

1431.  gentil  of  condicioun  : refined  in  manner. 

1448.  hath  derre : “holds  dearer,”  but  our  idiom  requires 
“ held  dearer.” 

1453.  Worn  out  what  with  woe  and  (what)  with  distress. 

1460.  am  not  I : “It  is  not  I,”  or  “ I am  not  the  one.” 

1466.  shal  be  : this  line  serves  to  explain  the  meaning  of' 
“ destinee.” 

1489.  ny  that : omit  “ that  ” in  translating. 

1490.  in  the  snare  : you  must  have  noticed  before  this  that 
“in”  frequently  equals  “into.” 

1491.  messager  of  day:  “the  herald  of  the  morn.”  — 
Shakespeare. 

1494.  This  line  resembles  one  of  Dante’s,  but  the  setting  is 
very  different. 

“ The  beauteous  planet,  that  to  love  incites, 

Was  making  all  the  orient  to  laugh, 

Veiling  the  Fishes  that  were  in  her  escort.” 

— Purg.  I,  20,  Longfellow’s  Translation. 

1495.  “ Stremes  ” maybe  translated  “beams”  or  “rays,” 
lut  it  does  not  mean  “beams”  or  “rays.”  Each  suggests  a 
different  aspect  of  one  thing ; but,  after  all,  no  phrases  can 
match  the  light  itself,  and  the  poet  himself  may  have  felt  joy 
of  the  morn  that  we  can  know  nothing  of. 

1501.  his  desyr:  his  mind  on  the  object  of  his  desire. 

1504.  were  it : it  might  be. 

1509.  ageyn  the  sonne  shene  : turned  toward  the  bright 
sun. 

1521.  many  yeres  : many  years  ago  (many  years  being  gone 
since). 


266  NOTES  [Page  62 

1522, 1524.  These  lines  have  been  shown  by  their  occurrence 
elsewhere  to  have  been  common  proverbs. 

1534-1539.  Friday  means  by  derivation  the  day  of  love,  as  the 
equivalent  French  vendredi  ( veneris  dies ) also  does.  It  is  sel- 
dom like  all  the  rest  of  the  week,  being  either  fairer  or  fouler. 

1566.  The  expression  seems  homely,  and  the  thought  is  com- 
mon in  fact  and  in  fiction  that  death  is  certain,  and  that  death 
has  been  appointed  by  a power  able  to  enforce  its  decrees.  But 
homely  expressions  and  obvious  truths  are  closely  linked  with 
grand  aspects  of  life  and  imagination.  In  the  past,  spinning  and 
weaving  were  nearer  to  all  households,  both  rich  and  poor,  than 
to-day. 

“ Some  winter  night,  shut  snugly  in 
Beside  the  fagot  in  the  hall, 

Methinks  I see  you  sit  and  spin, 

Surrounded  by  your  maidens  all.”  — Ronsard. 

The  minds  of  men  were  once  fuller  of  images  of  belief  or 
fancy,  majestic  beings  in  some  remote  unknown  shaping  at  the 
loom  of  time  the  destinies  of  men. 

“ O fatal  sustren,  which,  er  any  clooth 
Me  shapen  was,  my  destine  me  sponne.” 

— Chaucer’s  Troilus. 

1589.  She  shall  be  loved  by  me  alone,  and  by  no  one  else. 

1603.  Without  encountering  death  at  my  hand. 

1614.  chees  : is  this  “ I wol  chees  ” or  uchees  thou”  ? 

1622.  to  borwe  : in  pledge. 

1623.  out  of  alle  : without  any,  utterly  devoid  of. 

1625.  sooth  is  seyd  : this  introduces  a quotation  which 
Professor  Skeat  has  traced  to  Jean  de  Meung  and  to  Ovid. 

'*  Should  such  a man,  too  fond  to  rule  alone, 

Bear,  like  the  Turk,  no  brother  near  the  throne.” 

— Pope’s  Prologue  to  the  Satires. 


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1626.  his  thankes  : of  his  own  free  will. 

1642,  1643.  And  (the  leoun)  breketh  . . . and  (the  hunter) 
thinketh. 

1648.  knewe  : when  near  enough  to  recognize  each  other. 

1650.  rehersing:  without  any  new  word  or  repetition  of 
their  former  words. 

1660.  Who  could  help  supposing  that  so  fierce  a struggle 
would  soon  end  in  the  death  of  both  ? 

1665.  (Destiny  executes)  the  things  which  God  has  foreseen. 
The  foreseeing  is  expressed  twice  in  the  line. 

1673.  This  I think  of  in  connection  with  Theseus.  Theseus 
reminds  me  of  this. 

1697.  Under  the  sonne : I had  surmised  that  this  might 
mean  “ he  had  the  sun  in  his  favor,”  “ could  see  without  being 
seen,”  “ had  the  sun  at  his  back  ” ; but  others  interpret,  “ into 
the  east,”  so  that  the  combatants  appeared  between  him  and 
the  sun.  Other  meanings  have  been  suggested,  and  yet  “ to 
look  under  the  sun  ” seems  to  have  been  written  without  suspi- 
cion that  any  could  fail  to  understand  it.  Liddell  links  “ under 
the  sonne”  with  the  line  before. 

1707.  up  peyne  of  : on  pain  of. 

1713.  a listes : listes  is  plural  in  form,  but  here  singular  in 
construction. 

1715.  The  meaning  is  plain  ; the  construction  may  be  sug- 
gested by,  How  needs  (it)  more  words  ? 

1736.  We  say,  “ It  is  I that  love.”  Notice  that  the  construc- 
tion was  once,  “ It  am  I that  loves.” 

1755.  And  (they)  sawe. 

1761.  Apparently  a proverbial  saying,  and,  like  noblesse 
oblige , used  to  exhort  or  command.  “ If  you  are  noble-born 
(gentil),  you  should  show  pity,”  or  “You  have  shown  pity,  you 
must  be  noble-born.”  The  line  is  found  in  Chaucer  four  times. 


268 


NOTES 


[Page  73 


1780.  can  : knows. 

1781.  after  oon  : alike,  by  the  same  rule. 

1785.  benedicite : pronounced  bendiste  even  here,  if  the  A ! 
is  emphasized  and  prolonged. 

1799.  What  fool  like  a lover  ? 

“ To  be  wise  and  eek  in  love 
Is  granted  scarce  to  gods  above.” 

It  might  mean,  “Who  is  permitted  to  be  a fool  if  a lover  is 
not  ? ” that  is,  “ In  a lover  all  follies  must  be  overlooked.” 

1808.  Knows  as  much  her  obligation  to  them  as  to  me. 
“^Thank”  is  used  here  as  in  “What  thank  have  ye?” 

1814.  was  I oon:  I was  “number  one,”  was  first  in  the 
service  of  love. 

1827.  of  lordshipe  and  of  mercy  preyde  : prayed  him  “ to 
be  their  lord,  and  to  be  merciful.” 

1829.  To  speke  of  : in  respect  of. 

1837-1838.  That  one  of  you,  whether  he  likes  it  or  not,  must 
find  something  better  to  do  than  seek  her  hand  ; whistling  in  an 
ivy  leaf  would  be  even  more  useful. 

1850.  fer  ne  ner  : (neither)  farther  nor  nearer,  neither  more 
nor  less. 

1852.  at  alle  rightes : in  all  respects. 

1905.  Doon  make : caused  (people)  to  make. 

1913.  don  wrought : caused  (to  be)  wrought. 

1920.  “ Broken  sleep  ” and  “ cold  sighs  ” may  be  represented 
m painting,  indirectly,  by  the  aspects  of  the  persons  who  wake 
and  sigh. 

1925  ff.  These  are  usually  spoken  of  as  abstract  qualities  per- 
sonified. They  are  such  for  us  ; they  were  perhaps  for  Chaucer. 
They  were  not  so  to  begin  with.  Before  hope  was  an  abstract 
quality  it  was  a person,  a being,  that  possessed  each  person 


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that  hoped,  and  had  those  looks  and  ways  that  characterize 
hQpeful  persons.  Hope  was  the  composite  picture,  as  it  were, 
generated  in  the  mind  by  the  sight  of  many  hopeful  persons,  or 
rather  the  reality  which  it  was  believed  that  picture  in  the  mind 
necessarily  implied.  This  reality  could  be  described  and  painted, 
and  continued  to  be  described  and  painted,  long  after  it  had 
faded  from  the  minds  of  men,  and  had  ceased  to  be  believed  in,  — 
so  entirely  forgotten,  indeed,  has  it  become  that  many  are  unable 
to  recall  it.  Realism,  mysticism,  superstitions,  arts,  the  gender- 
forms  of  language,  had  their  origins  in  such  mental  growths 
as  these.  This  is  a hard  saying,  and  is  out  of  place  here,  if  it 
does  not  make  you  see  these  beings  which  earlier  men  saw  and 
dreamed  of,  and  believed  they  might  some  day  meet  face  to  face. 

1934.  By  ordre  : in  order. 

1941.  of  yore  agon  : (of)  years  ago. 

1954.  And  though  : “and  yet”  gives  the  meaning,  as  does 
“even  though”  ; but  the  earlier  meaning  of  “and  though”  is 
better  seen  in  “if  (and,  an)  I could  reckon  a thousand,  yet 
(though)  one  or  two  would  suffice.” 

1961.  wel  smellinge  : remember  that  this  is  a picture.  See 
line  1938. 

“ Why,  mark ! 

Even  when  I told  the  play  and  got  the  praise, 

There  spoke  up  a brisk  little  somebody, 

Critic  and  whippersnapper,  in  a rage 

To  set  things  right : ‘ The  girl  departs  from  truth  ! 

Pretends  she  saw  what  was  not  to  be  seen, 

Making  the  mask  of  the  actor  move,  forsooth! 

“ Then  a fear  flitted  o’er  the  wife’s  white  face,” 

“Then  frowned  the  father,”  “ then  the  husband  shook,” 

“ Then  from  the  festal  forehead  slipped  each  spray, 

“ And  the  heroic  mouth’s  gay  grace  was  gone ; ” 

As  she  had  seen  each  naked  fleshly  face, 


270 


NOTES 


[Page  81 


And  not  the  merely  painted  mask  it  wore ! ’ 

Well,  is  the  explanation  difficult? 

What’s  poetry  except  a power  that  makes? 

And,  speaking  to  one  sense,  inspires  the  rest, 

Pressing  them  all  into  its  service ; so 

That  who  sees  painting,  seems  to  hear  as  well 

The  speech  that’s  proper  for  the  painted  mouth ; 

And  who  hears  music,  feels  his  solitude 
Peopled  at  once  — for  how  count  heart  beats  plain 
Unless  a company  with  hearts  which  beat, 

Come  close  to  the  musician  seen  or  no  ? 

And  who  receives  true  verse  at  eye  or  ear, 

Takes  in  (with  verse)  time,  place,  and  person,  too, 

So,  links  each  sense  on  to  its  sister-sense, 

Grace-like : and  what  if  but  one  sense  of  three 
Front  you  at  once  ? The  sidelong  pair  conceive 
Through  faintest  touch  of  finest  finger-tips,  — 

Hear,  see,  and  feel  in  faith’s  simplicity, 

Alike,  what  one  was  sole  recipient  of : 

Who  hears  the  poem,  therefore,  sees  the  play.” 

— Browning’s  BalaustiorC s Adventure. 

1977.  If  the  sound  of  a line  ever  echoes  the  sense,  this  line  was 
felt  by  Chaucer  to  be  in  keeping  with  the  scene.  In  the  modern 
pronunciation  i^  has  no  longer  any  special  appropriateness. 

1987.  Chaucer  is  not  describing  what  he  had  seen,  nor  what 
he  had  invented  or  discovered  in  the  revelations  of  his  own 
imagination  ; he  is  reproducing  what  he  had  read  in  Statius,  if 
not  translating  with  the  book  before  him.  As  some  think,  he  is 
even  mistranslating,  and  “northern  light”  results  from  the 
misapprehension  of  adversum  Phoebi  jubar,  “the  beam  of  ad- 
verse Phoebus.”  Still  it  may  mean  here  to  Chaucer  the  Aurora 
Borealis.  Meteoric  and  celestial  phenomena  were  not  much  dis- 
tinguished from  each  other,  and  sunsets,  auroras,  moonshine, 


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and  starlight  were  all  attributed  to  the  sun  and  confounded 
together,  so  that  the  infrequent  mention  or  description  of  the 
aurora  by  mediaeval  writers  need  not  make  us  suppose  that 
Chaucer  was  not  thinking  of  it,  although  it  was  not  then  dis- 
entangled from  other  facts  and  given  a name  as  now. 

1997-1998.  “The  cruel  Ire”  and  “the  pale  Dread”  would 
be  now  “ cruel  Ire  ” and  “ pale  Dread.”  Anger  and  dread  are 
as  real  as  pikepurs.  They  might  not  be  found  together  in 
modern  works.  Persons  and  qualities  seem  to  us  such  differ- 
ent things. 

2005-2008.  The  first  two  lines  describe  the  suicide,  with  throat 
cut,  perhaps ; the  last  two,  the  victim  of  a murder,  like  that  of 
Sisera  by  Jael.  (Judges  iv.  17-22.)  Pause  somewhat  after 
“heer  ” in  reading. 

2017.  hoppesteres  : dancing  on  the  wave,  implying  that  the 
ships  were  burned  at  sea,  so  that  none  could  escape.  The  ques- 
tion is  what  Chaucer  intended  the  word  to  mean,  though  there 
is  little  doubt  that  he  read  or  thought  he  read  ballatrici  (danc- 
ing) in  Boccaccio,  where  we  find  le  navi  bellatrici  (fighting). 

2021.  Marte : Mars  was  the  name  of  the  war-god  and  of  a 
planet.  To  the  influence  of  this  planet  or  of  its  position  our 
ancestors  ascribed  many  lesser  woes  than  are  recounted  here. 
Cooks,  carters,  barbers,  butchers,  smiths  — none  so  lowly  as  to 
be  forgotten  by  the  “ infortune  of  Marte.” 

2029.  over  his  heed:  “a  tyraunt  that  was  king  of  Sisile 
that  had  assayed  the  peril  of  his  estat,  shewede  by  similitude  the 
dredes  of  reaumes  by  gastnesse  of  a swerd  that  heng  over  the 
heved  of  his  familier.”  — Boethius,  Chaucer's  Translation. 
The  story  of  the  sword  of  Damocles. 

2035.  hir  deeth  ...  by  manasinge  of  Mars  : this  was  “ de- 
peynted  ther-biforn  by  figure,”  that  is,  by  some  symbol  or 
picture. 


272  NOTES  [Page  8S 

2039.  Perhaps  the  uoon  ensample”  is  this  very  story  itself 
of  Palamon  and  Arcite. 

2045.  In  geomancy  (earth-divination)  sixteen  figures  could 
be  made  by  rule  with  dots  on  the  ground.  One  of  these  was 
called  Puella ; another,  Rubeus.  The  former  implied  the 
planet  Venus ; the  latter,  Mars.  Professor  Skeat  explained 
the  matter  in  The  Academy,  March  2,  1889. 

2059.  lode-sterre : Callisto  was  not  made  the  lodestar,  at 
least  according  to  the  accounts  we  have  in  Ovid  of  these  trans- 
formations. 

2103.  of  hir  hond  : in  respect  of  skill  and  strength. 

2125.  There  is  nothing  that  we  have  now  that  they  did  not 
have  as  well. 

2141-2142.  nayles : a bearskin  with  yellow  claws. 

2160.  cloth  of  Tars  : a kind  of  silk. 

2187.  alle  and  some  : collectively  and  individually,  one  and 
all. 

2217.  hir  houre  : the  one  hundred  and  sixty-eight  hours  in 
the  week  from  sunrise  on  Sunday  are  divided  into  twenty-four 
groups  of  seven  hours  each.  Sol  takes  the  first  hour  of  each 
group  ; Venus,  the  second  ; Mercury,  the  third  ; Luna  (Diana), 
the  fourth  ; Saturn,  the  fifth  ; Jupiter,  the  sixth ; Mars,  the 
seventh.  This  gives  the  second  hour  before  sunrise  on  Monday 
to  Venus  ; the  first  hour  after  sunrise  to  Diana  ; the  fourth  hour 
to  Mars.  Whoever  wanted  the  good-will  of  a planet  must 
choose  the  right  hour  for  every  act  that  concerned  that  planet. 

2238.  I kepe  nought  of  armes  for  to  yelpe  : i.e.  care  rather 
for  your  favor  than  for  glory. 

2241.  blowen  goes  with  “ prys.”  Cf.  Tennyson’s  — 

“ As  if  the  wind 

Blew  his  own  praises  in  his  eyes.” 


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The  three  specifications  that  follow  “axe  not”  are  distinct 
from  one  another,  which  is  not  always  the  case  in  Chaucer. 

2245-2246.  recche  nat : I do  not  care  whether  I have  victory 
over  them  or  they  over  me,  except  in  so  far  as  either  may  be  bet- 
ter for  my  purpose,  namely,  that  of  having  my  lady. 

2271.  The  thridde  houre  inequal  (from  the  time)  that  Pala- 
mon,  etc.  : the  hours  we  use  are  of  equal  length ; the  hours 
assigned  to  the  planets  were  each  the  twelfth  part  of  the  day- 
time or  the  night-time,  and  varied  as  these  varied. 

2273.  I doubt  whether  Chaucer  was  thinking  of  any  other 
likeness  here  than  that  of  time  ; but  if  he  was  making  a com- 
parison, it  was  with  the  beautiful  sun  he  was  wont  to  see,  and 
not  with  the  one  we  read  about  in  astronomy  books.  Chaucer 
lived  before  the  sun  went  ninety  million  miles  away,  and  be- 
came eight  hundred  thousand  miles  in  diameter.  Such  changes 
of  conception  make  many  passages  in  Chaucer  humorous  to  the 
modern  reader,  which  is  unfortunate. 

2281.  It  looks  as  if  Boccaccio’s  fu  mundo  (was  clean)  had 
suggested  to  Chaucer  fumando  (smoking),  and  led  him  to  en- 
velop his  Emily  in  clouds  of  incense,  and  to  surround  her  with 
tapestries  and  hangings  of  drapery. 

2286.  game  : pleasure. 

2287.  He  that  means  well  would  find  nothing  to  blame.  “ To  * 
the  pure  all  things  are  pure.”  It  would  really  have  been  more 
consistent  with  the  character  of  a “ verray  parfit  gentil  knight  ” 
to  have  omitted  these  reflections. 

2288.  it  is  good  (for)  a man  (to)  ben  at  his  large  seems 
not  to  have  here  its  usual  meaning  of  being  quite  unconstrained, 
but  of  not  being  constrained  to  occupy  one’s  self  with  details. 

2294.  thise  bokes  olde  : one  of  these  books  has  been  shown 
to  be  the  Teseide  of  Boccaccio ; but  Boccaccio’s  name  is  not 
found  in  the  works  of  Chaucer. 

T 


274 


NOTES 


[Page  93 


2308.  “Hunting”  and  “venerye”  are  words  that  came  to 
Chaucer  from  different  sources,  the  Saxon  and  the  Latin.  It  is 
easy  to  fancy  a difference  of  meaning,  but  hard  to  establish  any. 

2313.  tho  thre  formes  : see  lines  2298-2299. 

2367.  The  nexte  houre  of  Mars  folwinge  this  : the  fourth 
hour  of  the  day.  See  lines  2217  and  2271. 

2396.  doth  me  : makes  me  endure  all  this  woe. 

2399.  the  place  : see  line  1862. 

2405.  do  that : cause  that  I have  victory. 

2417.  Such  offerings  of  part  were  the  earnest  of  the  devo- 
tion of  the  entire  self  to  the  God.  By  similar  acts  man  had 
bound  himself  to  his  fellow-man.  The  general  use  of  writing 
has  tended  to  displace  these  methods  of  public  acknowledgment 
of  our  intentions,  and  to  make  us  incapable  of  understanding 
their  former  solemnity. 

2451.  agayn  his  kinde  : against  his  nature,  referring  to  the 
Saturn  of  the  astrologers,  who  was  as  different  from  either  the 
Saturn  of  the  early  Romans  or  the  Saturn  of  the  Roman  poets 
as  the  latter  were  from  each  other.  Add  to  these  the  planet 
Saturn,  and  you  have  a confusion  from  which  poetry  seeks  no 
release,  however  much  science  may  protest. 

“ The  intelligible  forms  of  ancient  poets, 

The  fair  humanities  of  old  religion, 

* * * * * * * 

They  live  no  longer  in  the  faith  of  reason, 

But  still  the  heart  doth  need  a language,  still 
Doth  the  old  instinct  bring  back  the  old  names ; 

And  to  yon  starry  world  they  now  are  gone, 

Spirits  or  gods  that  used  to  share  the  earth 
With  man  as  with  their  friend.,, 

— Schiller’s  Wallenstein,  Coleridge’s  Translation. 

2454.  wide  for  to  turne : Uranus  and  Neptune  were  not 


Page  109] 


THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


275 


known  to  the  astrologers,  and  consequently  Saturn  was  to  them 
the  most  distant  and  the  slowest  of  the  planets. 

2519-2520.  Translate  the  “he’s”  by  this  one,  that  one,  that 
other. 

2614.  He  ...  he  : one  . . . another. 

2616.  he  him  hurtleth  : one  overthrows  another. 

2621.  Theseus  causes  them  to  rest  (in  order)  to  refresh  them- 
selves. “ Hem  ” is  used  for  44  them”  and  for  44  themselves.” 

2623-2624.  The  meaning  of  these  two  lines  is  so  plain  that 
we  see  it  might  be  more  precisely  expressed  by  supplying  44  each 
has  ” after  44  and.” 

2628.  hunte  : see  lines  1678,  2018. 

2630-2632.  There  is  (not)  in  Belmarie  no  lion  that  is  hunted 
or  famished  so  fell  nor  so  desirous  of  the  blood,  etc. 

2641.  he  take  : Palamon  is  taken. 

2647.  er  he  were  take  : before  he  (Palamon)  was  taken. 

2651.  by  composicioun  : in  accordance  with  the  terms  of 
the  contest.  See  line  2554. 

2673.  Been  in  hir  wele  : are  exultant.  Arcite  had  lived 
three  years  at  the  court  of  Theseus,  and  won  the  love  of  all. 
See  line  1432  ff. 

2676.  of  his  helm  y-don  : do  off,  or  doff,  take  off. 

2678.  large  place  : you  can  easily  make  a sketch  of  the  en- 
closure from  the  description  (1.  1885  ff.).  It  was  built  on  the 
spot  where  Palamon  and  Arcite  had  fought  (1.  1862).  Emily 
is  seated  with  the  rest  of  the  court  on  the  south  side  where  she 
may  see  the  combatants  44  under  the  sonne  ” (to  misapply,  per- 
haps, Chaucer’s  phrase).  Arcite  spurs  his  horse  from  one  end 
to  the  other  of  the  broad  space  (large  place)  between  her  seat 
and  the  lists. 

2683.  And  was  al  his  chere,  as  in  his  herte : in  reading 
dwell  on  the  first  44  his,”  and  pause  before  and  after  44  as  in  his 


276 


NOTES 


[Page  109 


herte.”  u She  was  all  his  (his  delight,  his  joy),  as  he  imagined 
in  his  heart.”  But  his  imaginings  are  suddenly  made  vain. 
Mars  had  given  victory  to  his  worshipper ; Mars  could  give 
nothing  more. 

2696.  corven : the  “layneres”  (1.  2504)  were  cut,  not 
unlaced. 

2698.  memorie  : not  simply  conscious,  but  remembering  the 
great  joy  of  the  instant  before. 

2710.  That  . . . his  brest-boon : whose  breast-bone  was 

pierced.  See  line  2606. 

2711.  othere  woundes  : we  would  say,  u for  broken  armes 

and  other  woundes.” 

2713.  save  : men  believed  that  diseased  and  maimed  bodies 
could  be  cured  by  certain  phrases,  written,  spoken,  or  chanted, 
either  where  the  sufferer  was  or  elsewhere.  They  also  believed 
that  a remedy  for  many  bodily  ills  was  found  in  sage,  not  to 
mention  a multitude  of  other  herbs. 

2719.  disconfitinge : what  took  place  there  was  not  consid- 
ered a defeat  and  disgrace,  but  merely  a joust  or  tournament. 

2731-2734.  leet  crye  : Theseus  bade  proclaim  that  the  vic- 
tory belonged  to  one  side  as  much  as  to  the  other. 

2749-2751.  vertu  expulsyf:  the  animal  virtue  is  placed  in 
the  brain,  and  is  here  expulsive,  or  tends  to  expel  the  poison 
(the  corrupt  blood)  ; the  natural  virtue  is  placed  in  the  liver, 
and  moves  the  blood  through  the  veins.  It  appears  that  the 
virtue  animal  could  not  get  the  poisonous  blood  away  from  the 
virtue  natural ; in  other  words,  the  corruption  spread  through 
all  the  veins. 

2760.  to  chirche  : for  burial. 

2761.  This  al  and  som  : this  is  al  and  som,  the  conclusion  of 
the  whole  matter  is. 

2762.  For  which  (reason). 


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THE  KNIGHT'S  TALE 


277 


2764.  Seated  at  a desk  we  read  with  glossary  and  notes 
amid  scenes  unlike  those  in  which  Chaucer  wrote,  more  un- 
like those  in  which  the  knight  told  his  story.  He  has  relieved 
his  fellow-riders  of  the  tedium  of  his  medical  disquisition  by  a 
playful  remark,  and  now  recalls  their  attention  by  the  other- 
wise superfluous  “ as  ye  shul  after  here.”  They  thought  for 
a time  they  were  listening  to  Arcite  himself ; but  just  as  the 
tenderness  of  the  vision  became  too  sad  to  endure,  the  knight 
is  himself  again,  and  in  humorous  wise  disclaims  theology  as 
he  had  previously  renounced  medicine. 

2774.  departing  : severing  of  our  companionship. 

2779.  The  natural  or  artistic  utterance  of  an  emotion  readily 
affects  the  hearer,  less  often  the  reader,  rarely  the  student  who 
has  to  scan  and  parse.  This  last  has  then  to  be  told  that  this 
grief  expresses  itself  with  repetitions  of  the  same  thought,  often 
of  the  same  words. 

“ Alone,  alone,  all,  all  alone, 

Alone  on  the  wide,  wide  sea! 

And  never  a saint  took  pity  on 
My  soul  in  agony.” 

— Coleridge’s  Ancient  Mariner. 

2791.  that  art : the  art  of  love,  the  proper  qualities  and  con- 
duct of  a perfect  lover. 

“ Love  hath  me  taught  no  more  of  .his  art, 

But  serve  alway  and  stinte  for  no  wo.” 

— Chaucer’s  Compleynt , line  42. 

2792.  So  may  Jupiter  have  some  thought  of  my  soul. 

2796.  ye  shul  been  a wyf  : you  are  destined  to  be  a wife. 

2809-2815.  His  spirit  has  changed  its  abode,  and  the  knight 

follows  it  no  farther  for  three  potent  reasons,  but  prays  that 
Mars  may  guide  the  spirit  to  the  place  “ wTher  divinistres  writer* 
that  they  (the  spirits)  dwelle.” 


278 


NOTES 


[Page  114 


2874-2877.  The  white  gloves,  the  green  crown,  the  bright 
sword,  the  bare  face  — all  go  with  Arcite.  Theseus  laid  Arcite 
on  the  bier,  and  wept. 

The  Mss.  have  no  punctuation  ; the  editions  differ  among 
themselves.  The  variant  (1.  2874),  “Upon  his  hondes  hadde 
he  gloves  white,”  may  have  arisen  from  not  noting  that  this 
line  might  be  read  with  wThat  follows. 

2885.  passing:  surpassing  others  in  respect  of  weeping  — 
weeping  more  than  the  rest. 

2888.  degree : according  to  his  rank,  more  rich  than  that  of 
humbler  men. 

2962.  in  no  disjoynt : with  no  failure. 

2977.  Unwist  of  him  : it  being  unknown  to  him  or  without 
his  knowledge. 

2984.  I do  not  know  whether  this  means  that  his  gaze  was 
fixed  or  ranged  from  one  object  to  another. 

2987.  This  line  is  contrasted  with  line  2995,  “ the  cause 
above”  (the  heavens)  with  the  “world  adoun.”  The  curious 
argumentation  that  follows  has  many  a parallel,  and  grows 
naturally  out  of  certain  mediaeval  conceptions.  Chaucer  actu- 
ally took  it  from  certain  passages  in  Boethius.  Each  planet  was 
embedded  at  one  spot  in  a spherical,  crystalline  shell  of  its  own, 
the  centre  of  which  was  the  earth.  The  stars  had  a shell  ali  to 
themselves.  Outside  of  the  shell  in  which  the  stars  were  set  was 
another  shell,  the  primum  mobile , Milton’s  “First  Moved,” 
This  mobile  or  thing  movable  requires  a mover,  who  is  God ; 
but  the  thing  itself  keeps  all  the  celestial  machinery  in  motion 
after  that.  This  mechanical  contrivance  would  fall  all  to  pieces 
if  it  were  not  held  together  by  love.  Contrast  with  the  stable 
heavens  the  unstable  things  of  earth,  where  even  oaks  and 
stones  waste  away,  where  all  things  change  ; argal,  we  ought  to 
change  with  them,  and  turn  our  grief  and  mourning  to  joy. 


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279 


3002.  Only  it  pleases  me  to  express  my  opinion. 

3006.  Think  of  anything  you  please  ; you  can  always  regard 
it  as  a part  of  something  else.  But  this  whole  is  in  its  turn  a 
part  of  something  else,  and  so  on  till  you  would  attain  the  ulti- 
mate real  whole,  “parfit  and  stable,”  from  which  you  would 
say  the  “ corrumpable  ” thing  you  started  with  was  derived. 
Some  do  not  refuse  the  name  of  philosophy  to  such  ideas. 

3015.  with-outen  any  lye  : without  doubt. 

3028.  That  nedeth  . . . He  moot  ben  deed : that  (it)  is 
necessary  that  he  should  die. 

3036.  prince : princeps , principium,  beginning.  Primus, 
first,  in  time  and  in  excellence  of  every  kind. 

3064.  Can  he  hem  thank  ? See  line  1808. 

3084.  kinges  brother  sone : king’s  brother’s  son.  Brother 
is  the  Old  English  genitive  which  was  already  beginning  to  be 
replaced  by  the  form  brotheres  or  brothers,  which  we  write 
brother’s. 

3089.  Mercy  ought  to  do  more  than  what  mere  justice  re- 
quires. 


THE  NUN’S  PRIEST’S  TALE 

3957.  The  knight,  with  the  sympathy  of  the  company,  begs 
the  monk  to  desist,  and  not  to  add  another  to  the  dozen  or 
more  sad  stories  which  he  had  told  already.  It  seemed  as  if  he 
might  go  on  forever.  The  subject  was  inexhaustible ; so,  too, 
was  the  monk.  He  had  said  : — 

“ I wol  biwayle  in  maner  of  tragedie 
The  harm  of  hem  that  stode  in  heigh  degree, 

And  fillen  so  that  there  nas  no  remedie 
To  bringe  hem  out  of  hir  adversitee  ; 


280 


NOTES 


[Page  127 


For  certein,  whan  that  fortune  list  to  flee, 

Ther  may  no  man  the  course  of  hir  withholde ; 

Lat  no  man  truste  on  blind  prosperitee  ; 

Be  war  by  thise  ensamples  trewe  and  olde.” 

Lucifer,  Adam,  Samson,  Hercules,  Nero,  and  many  more  had 
been  passed  in  review  with  delightful  disregard  of  the  bounda- 
ries between  myth  and  history  that  we  have  been  taught  to 
observe. 

3972-3975.  how  “ Fortune  etc.”:  The  host  echoes  the 
words  of  the  last  stanza  of  the  monk’s  tale  : — 

“ Anhanged  was  Cresus,  the  proude  king, 

His  royal  trone  mighte  him  not  availle,  — 

Tragedie  is  noon  other  maner  thing, 

Ne  can  in  singing  crye  ne  biwaille 

But  for  that  fortune  alway  wol  assaille 

With  unwar  strook  the  regnes  that  been  proude ; 

For  when  men  trusteth  hir,  than  wol  she  faille 
And  covere  hir  brighte  face  with  a cloude.,, 

3986.  hevene : heaven’s. 

3995.  See  Prologue,  line  165,  for  the  monk’s  character. 

4006.  so  moot  I go : as  sure  as  I am  alive,  so  may  I have  the 
use  of  my  limbs,  so  may  I thrive. 

4022.  hir  halle : the  “ narwe  cotage  ” had  two  rooms,  called 
here,  with  humorous  exaggeration,  bower  and  hall.  There  was 
no  chimney  ; the  smoke  escaped  through  crevices.  The  live- 
stock probably  shared  the  hovel  with  the  widow  and  her  two 
daughters. 

4030.  She  had  no  gout  to  keep  her  from  dancing. 

4045-4046.  His  clock  was  the  celestial  equator  which  he 
could  see  “in  his  mind’s  eye,”  as  degree  after  degree  of  this 
circle  rose  above  the  horizon.  At  all  events,  he  crowed  as  each 
fifteenth  degree  arose. 


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281 


4069.  Skeat  has  found  the  song  this  comes  from,  and  cites 
verse  4064  as  an  indication  that  Chaucer  had  the  whole  stanza 
in  mmd. 

“ My  lefe  is  faren  in  lond 
Allas  why  is  she  so  ? 

And  I am  so  sore  bound 
I may  not  com  her  to. 

She  hath  my  hert  in  hold 
Wherever  she  ride  or  go, 

With  trew  love  a thousand-fold.” 

4081.  Shame : you  really  were  asleep.  There’s  nothing  here. 
Shame  on  you  for  being  so  frightened. 

4090.  (That)  was  lyk  an  hound. 

4118-4127.  Por  “ colera,”  i.e.  “choleric  humor”  and 
“ humour  of  malencolye  ” in  line  4123,  and  “ othere  humours” 
in  line  4127,  see  line  420.  “Madamoysele  Pertelote”  is  talk- 
ing not  after  the  manner  of  hens,  but  of  contemporary  physi- 
cians. Quotations  and  references  are  given  in  the  notes  of 
Tyrwhitt  and  Skeat. 

4125.  “ For  fere  of  beres,  or  (that)  develes  wole  him 
take”  is  a change  of  construction  not  common  or  approved 
in  modern  English. 

4130.  Catoun  : Dionysius  Cato  is  a name  found  in  the  title  of 
a popular  book  of  the  fourth  century,  containing  maxims  of 
morality  and  rules  of  conduct. 

4131.  Make  no  account  of  dreams. 

4133.  as  tak:  so  “as  keep”  in  line  2302,  “as  sende”  in 
line  2317. 

4145.  “ Compleccioun  ” is  not  the  color  of  the  face,  but  the 
bodily  constitution;  here  “ colerik,”  or  abounding  in  the  chol- 
eric humor. 


282  NOTES  [Page  136 

4166.  mery  : pleasant.  Probably  here  in  the  sense  of  abun- 
dant, flourishing. 

4160.  graunt  mercy  : grand  merci , great  thanks. 

4172-4173.  There  is  no  need  of  any  argument  about  it ; the 
facts  speak  for  themselves. 

4174.  gretteste  auctour:  Cicero  in  his  work  on  Divi- 
nation. An  author  unique  among  the  greatest.  See  Stoffel, 
Anglia , XXVII,  253. 

4177.  happed:  it  happened. 

4179.  streit  of  herbergage:  such  lack  of  lodgings.  We 
require  in  general  that  both  clauses  should  be  constructed 
alike  ; exact  parallelism  is  frequently  absent  from  the  language 
of  Chaucer.  His  consciousness  of  the  parts  of  speech  did  not 
outweigh  his  sense  that  the  words  as  they  stood  expressed  what 
he  wanted  to  say. 

4185.  as  it  wolde  falle : just  as  it  happened. 

4190.  as  in  commune  : the  general  direction  that  fortune 
gives  to  the  course  of  our  lives  is  modified  by  choice  or  chance 
or  other  powers.  Fortune  was  originally  a very  solid  being  of 
flesh  and  blood,  capable  of  struggling  against  those  who  would 
thwart  her  purpose. 

4191.  We  have  lost  for  the  most  part  whatever  distinction 
existed  between  “ it  was  ” and  “ it  were  ” ; we  still  say  “if  it 
were,”  but  no  longer  “ before  it  were.”  See  line  2647.  Many 
now  always  say  “if  it  was,”  while  others  always  say  “if  it 
were,”  even  when  the  sense  requires  “if  it  was.”  Such  changes 
as  were  going  on  in  the  past  are  going  on  now,  and  men  cannot 
cease  changing  their  language. 

4210.  Do  . . . arresten:  this  does  not  mean  “do  stop  this 
cart,”  but  “ cause  the  stopping  of  this  cart,”  “ have  it  stopped.” 

4222.  falle  in  suspecioun : to  have  suspicions. 

4268.  Chaucer  could  say  “he  mette,”  “he  dreamed,”  oi 


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283 


“him  mette,”  (it)  dreamed  to  him,  it  seemed  to  him  in  his 
dream.  With  either  of  these  it  was  possible  to  join  “ a wonder 
dream.”  agayn  the  day:  toward  morning,  which  was  the 
time  for  truest  dreams. 

“I  had  a vision  when  the  night  was  late.”  — Tennyson. 

4294.  at  the  same  tide : at  the  same  time. 

4307.  For  traisoun : for  fear  of  treason. 

4344.  I make  no  account  of  laxatives,  do  not  value  them. 

4354.  “ Woman  is  man’s  confusion.”  Chanticleer’s  version 
does  not  agree  with  this,  but  has  the  merit  of  being  more  pleas- 
ing to  Dame  Partlet,  who,  poor  woman,  knew  no  Latin,  and 
should  not  have  attempted  to  lecture  her  lord. 

4365.  a corn  (that)  lay. 

4378.  “ Bede  then  shows  by  what  questions  and  answers  they 
proved  out  of  Scripture  that  this  world  began  at  the  vernal 
equinox,  or  on  the  21st  of  March,  the  moon  then  being  full  — 
one  of  two  4 great  lights.’  It  was  in  spring,  because  it  is  said 
the  earth  brought  forth  grass  ; it  was  equinox,  because  light  was 
said  to  have  been  divided  equally  from  darkness.”  — Morley, 
English  Writers , II,  146.  March  was  also  considered  the  first 
month  of  the  year,  which  began  not  on  the  1st  but  the  25th  of 
March. 

4380-4385.  Sin  March  bigan:  “the  month  when  God  first 
made  man  ” was  complete,  and  thirty-two  days  more  had  passed, 
and  this  brings  us  to  the  3d  of  May.  The  sun  had  traversed  in 
his  journey  from  west  to  east  twenty-one  degrees  of  Taurus,  and 
this  again  indicates  the  3d  of  May.  So  grand  an  event  as  the 
fulfilment  of  Chanticleer’s  dream,  with  his  justification  of  his 
forebodings,  cannot  be  fitly  dated  in  the  phrase  of  tradesmen 
and  bookkeepers. 

4397-4399.  These  verses  should  be  read  with  grave  face  and 


284 


NOTES 


[Page  145 


in  solemn  tone,  and  if  you  do  not  feel  the  full  force  of  Chaucer’s 
suggestion  that  “some  rethor”  might  take  for  a text  the  muta- 
bility of  human  affairs,  you  need  more  experience  either  of  life 
or  of  Chaucer. 

4401.  al  so  trewe  : quite  as  true. 

4407.  forn-cast : foreordained  by  the  contrivance  of  the 
powers  on  high. 

4424-4440.  These  questions  of  “ fate,  free  will,  foreknowl- 
edge absolute  ” bulked  large  in  Chaucer’s  mind.  His  transla- 
tion of  Boethius  and  the  reflections  that  interrupt  the  course 
even  of  his  lighter  poems  show  his  preoccupation  with  those 
great  interests  of  the  Middle  Ages,  for  he  does  not  exaggerate 
when  he  says  : — 

“ That  in  scole  is  greet  altercacioun 
In  this  matere,  aud  greet  disputisoun, 

And  hath  been  of  an  hundred  thousand  men.” 

Sometimes,  however,  he  seems  to  be  laughing  at  this  over- 
strain on  human  wits,  and  he  is  unable  to  explain  on  the  prin- 
ciples of  this  high  philosophj7,  how  the  purpose  of  a dream  could 
be  thwarted  by  the  “cold  counsel  ” of  a woman.  But  here  he 
checks  himself  again.  “ Is  their  counsel  really  cold  ? Authors 
say  so,  the  cock  says  so,  but  I can  conjecture  no  harm  of  any 
woman.” 

4430.  bulte  it  to  the  bren:  sift  till  bran  and  grain  are 
entirely  separated. 

4433  ff.  There  are  three  questions  Chaucer  “wol  not  han  to 
do  of,”  nor  can  I.  Does  absolute  foreknowledge  constrain  (1) 
by  simple  necessity,  or  (2)  not  at  all,  or  (3)  by  conditional 
necessity  ? 

4487.  He  must  have  entertained  himself  very  agreeably  with 
them. 


Page  149]  THE  NUN’S  PRIEST’S  TALE 


285 


4493.  of  herte  : he  sang  with  all  his  heart. 

4503.  The  cock  refrained  from  crowing,  and  did  not  wake  up 
the  young  man  in  time  for  his  ordination. 

4507  ff.  No  comparison  between  the  wisdom  and  discretion 
of  your  father  and  the  subtlety  of  him,  i.e.  the  hero  in  Daun 
Burnel  the  Asse.  The  “of”  is  somewhat  displaced  ; the  mean- 
ing would  have  been  expressed  by  “ of  him  the  subtiltee.” 

4513.  “Man  hath ” and  “ men  hath ” were  both  used  in  the 
sense  of  one  has.  “ Men”  is  in  such  use  not  a plural,  but  a 
worn  form  of  “ man,”  which  has  ceased  to  call  to  mind  a human 
being  or  a*n  adult  male,  and  is  read  here  “ as  one  that  could,” 
etc. 

4519.  Read  Ecclesiasticus  on  flattery. 

4549.  The  beginning  of  title  or  first  line  often  denoted  the 
book.  JEneidos  Libri  XII , gave  the  name  Eneydos  to  what 
we  call  the  jEneid.  The  passage  in  which  Pyrrhus  with  his 
drawn  sword  appears  is  familiar  to  any  one  who  has  read 
Vergil,  JEneidos  Liber  II. 

4545  f.  This  comparison  of  great  things  with  small,  the  alarm 
of  the  hens  with  the  terror  of  women  at  the  burning  of  Troy, 
Rome,  and  Carthage,  is  a form  of  humor  that  manifests  itself 
here  and  there  even  in  our  time. 

4572.  many  another  man  : many  a man  besides. 

4584  f.’  The  Flemings  were  foreigners,  if  not  “ foreign  devils  ” 
to  Jack  Straw’s  followers  in  1381. 

4635.  “My  Lord  the  Bishop,”  or  some  such  addition;  per- 
haps the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  from  1381  to  1396,  William 
Courtenay. 


PROPER  NAMES 


Adoun,  Adonis,  2224.  Venus  loved  him  in  vain,  and  mourned 
his  untimely  death. 

Alisaundre,  Alexandria  in  Egypt,  61.  It  was  won  by  Pierre 
de  Lusignan  in  1365. 

Amadrides,  Hamadryades,  2928.  To  the  ancient  Greeks  they 
were  nymphs  whose  life  depended  on  that  of  their  trees. 

Amazones,  Amazons,  880.  The  Greeks  of  the  Heroic  Age 
frequently  battled  with  this  race  of  women  that  dwelled 
about  the  Black  Sea. 

Amphioun,  Amphion,  1546.  In  the  Heroic  Age  he  made  him- 
self king  of  Thebes  in  Boeotia. 

Antonius,  Mark  Antony,  2032.  He  killed  himself  at  Alexan- 
dria, 30  b.c. 

Arclta,  1013 ; Arcita,  2761  ; Arclte,  1031 ; Arcite,  1344, 
Arcite.  This  Theban  knight  first  appears  in  the  Teseide 
of  Boccaccio. 

Argus,  Argus,  1390.  He  had  a hundred  eyes,  was  set  to  guard 
Io,  was  charmed  to  sleep,  and  slain  by  Mercury. 

Aristotle,  Aristotle,  295.  This  Grecian  philosopher  (384- 
322  b.c.)  ruled  the  spirits  of  men  in  the  centuries  that 
preceded  the  Renaissance. 

Artoys,  Artois,  86.  Nearly  the  modern  Pas-de-Calais  in  North- 
ern France,  a province  of  ancient  France ; in  Chaucer’s 
time,  a countship. 

Atthalante,  Atalanta,  2070.  She  shared  with  Meleager  in  the 

287 


288 


PROPER  NAMES 


hunt  for  the  Caledonian  boar,  and  became  unwittingly  the 
cause  of  Meleager’s  death. 

Atthenes,  Athens  in  Greece,  861 ; Athenians,  880. 

Attheon,  Actseon,  2065.  He  saw  Diana  bathing,  and  was 
changed  by  her  into  a stag  and  torn  in  pieces  by  his  own 
dogs. 

Austin,  St.  Augustine,  187.  From  the  works  of  this  greatest 
of  the  Latin  Fathers  (354-430)  rules  were  deduced  that 
were  adopted  by  as  many  as  thirty  monastic  fraternities. 

Averrois,  Averroes,  433.  This  Spanish-Arabian  philosopher 
(1126-1198)  was  famed  not  only  for  medical  works,  but  for 
works  on  law,  mathematics,  etc.,  and  particularly  for  a 
commentary  on  Aristotle. 

Avicen,  Avicenna,  432.  The  medical  works  of  this  Arabian 
philosopher  (980-1037)  were,  in  a Latin  translation,  used 
in  European  schools  till  1700. 

Baldeswelle,  Baldeswell  in  Norfolk,  620. 

Bathe,  Bath  in  Somersetshire,  445. 

Belle,  Bell,  inn  in  Southwark,  719. 

Belmarye,  Benmarin,  57.  The  latter  is  Froissart’s  name  for 
this  Moorish  kingdom  in  Northern  Africa ; others  called  it 
Balmeryne  and  Belmore. 

Beneit,  Benedict,  173.  This  Italian  monk  (480-543)  prescribed 
to  his  followers  the  observance  of  certain  times  for  manual 
and  mental  labor  as  well  as  for  their  religious  duties. 

Berwik,  Berwick- on-Tweed  in  Northumberland,  692. 

Boece,  Boethius,  4432.  This  Roman  philosopher  (475-524) 
held  high  position  in  the  state  and  was  charged  with  treason 
and  put  to  death.  He  wrote  De  Consolatione  Philoso- 
phies, which  Chaucer  translated. 

Boloigne,  Boulogne  in  France,  465. 


PROPER  NAMES 


289 


Bradwardyn,  Bradwardine,  4432.  This  English  theologian 
and  mathematician  (1290-1349)  was  rightly  called  Doctor 
Profundus.  * 

Britayne,  Brittany,  409.  The  great  northwestern  peninsula  of 
France  was  one  of  those  independent  duchies  whose  union 
formed  France. 

Burdeux,  Bordeaux  in  Southwestern  France,  397. 

Burnel,  Brunellus,  4502.  Like  Reynard  the  Fox  or  Bruin  the 
Bear,  is  Brunell  (Browny)  the  Ass. 

Cadme,  Cadmus,  1546.  Thebes  in  Bceotia  was  reputed  to  have 
been  founded  by  this  Tyrian. 

Calistopee,  Callisto,  2056.  She  incurred  the  wrath  of  the 
chaste  Diana  and  was  changed  into  a bear ; on  the  point 
of  being  slain,  she  was  transformed  by  Jupiter  into  the 
constellation  Ursa  Major,  or,  according  to  Chaucer,  into 
the  lodestar,  which  is  in  Ursa  Minor. 

Cappaneus,  Capaneus,  932.  This  one  of  the  seven  heroes  who 
marched  from  Argos  against  Thebes  was  struck  by  Jupiter 
with  lightning.  A different  legend  from  that  followed  by 
Chaucer  makes  his  wife  to  have  flung  herself  intc  the 
flames  and  to  have  perished. 

Cartage,  Carthage,  in  Northern  Africa,  404. 

Catoun,  Dionysius  Cato,  4161.  Disticha  de  Moribus  aaFilium , 
of  which  he  was  reputed  author,  was  popular  in  the 
Middle  Ages,  and  was  translated  into  French  and  English. 

Caunterbury,  Canterbury  in  Kent,  16. 

Chauntecleer,  Chanticleer,  4039.  Compare  like  names  for 
other  animals  than  the  cock : Reynard,  Bruin,  etc. 

Chepe,  Cheapside  in  London,  754. 

Cipioun,  Scipio  Africanus  the  Younger,  4314.  This  Roman 
general  (185-129  b.c.)  appears  in  Cicero’s  De  Republics 

u 


290 


PROPER  NAMES 


relating  a dream  of  moral  import,  on  which  Macrobius 
wrote  a commentary. 

Cither ea,  Venus,  2215.  She  has  the  name  Cytherea  from  the 
island  Cythera  or  from  a Cretan  town  of  that  name. 

Colle,  name  of  a dog,  4573. 

Coloigne,  Cologne,  466.  Many  pilgrims  resorted  thither  to 
the  relics,  among  which  are  the  bones  of  the  Three  Wise 
Men  of  the  East. 

Constantyn,  Constantine  the  African,  433.  He  was  born  in 
Carthage,  studied  in  Babylon,  taught  medicine  at  Salerno, 
translated  from  Greek  and  Arabic,  died  in  1087. 

Or  eon,  Creon,  938.  He  ruled  Thebes  after  the  exile  of  CEdipus, 
destroyed  the  Argive  kings  that  assailed  him,  and  was  in 
turn  attacked  and  slain  by  Theseus,  in  Chaucer’s  version. 

Cresus,  Croesus,  1946.  King  of  Lydia  (560  b.c.);  he  was  cap- 
tured by  Cyrus,  546  b.c. 

Crete,  Crete,  980.  This  Grecian  island  in  the  Mediterranean 
is  famous  in  legend  and  history,  while  the  buried  cities, 
recently  unearthed,  antedate  both.  In  Chaucer’s  time  it 
belonged  to  Venice. 

Damascien,  Johannes  Damascenus,  433.  John  of  Damascus, 
theologian  and  father  of  the  Eastern  church,  died  about  760. 

Dane,  Daphne,  2062.  She  was  beloved  by  Apollo  and  changed 
into  a laurel. 

Deiscorides,  Dioscorides,  430.  A Greek  physician  of  the 
second  century  a.d. 

Dertemouthe,  Dartmouth,  389.  This  town  of  Devonshire  at 
the  mouth  of  the  Dart  was  an  important  seaport  in  the 
Middle  Ages. 

Diane,  Diana,  1682.  This  Italian  divinity  was  associated  in 
some  way  with  the  moon,  chastity,  hunting,  and  later  with 
the  Greek  Artemis. 


PROPER  NAMES 


291 


Ecclesiaste,  Ecclesiasticus,  4519.  This  is  not  Ecclesiastes, 
but  a non-canonical  book  of  the  Old  Testament. 

Ector,  Hector,  2832.  This  son  of  Priam  and  husband  of  An- 
dromache was  slain  by  Achilles,  who  gave  up  the  dead 
body  to  the  Trojans  at  the  prayer  of  the  father. 

Egeus,  iEgeus,  2838.  In  a Greek  legend  iEgeus,  the  father  of 
Theseus,  supposing  his  son  to  have  been  devoured  by  the 
Minotaur,  threw  himself  into  sea. 

Emelye  and  Emelya,  Emily,  871,  1077. 

Eney dos,  iEneid,  4549.  ‘ ‘ As  seith  us  JEneidos  liber  secundus  ’ v 

would  be  the  full  form. 

Engelond,  England,  16. 

Epicurus,  Epicurus,  336.  This  Greek  philosopher  (342-270  b.c.) 
got  a bad  name  by  teaching  that  no  one  ought  to  make 
pain  the  aim  of  action. 

Esculapius,  JEsculapius,  429.  The  fabled  son  of  Apollo  and 
god  of  physicians  appears  in  Chaucer  among  the  medical 
authorities  of  the  Middle  Ages. 

Femenye,  country  of  the  Amazons,  866. 

Finister e,  Cape  Einisterre,  in  Northwest  Spain,  408. 

Flaundres,  Flanders,  86.  To  Chaucer  this  name  meant  a 
country  which  included  the  modern  Flanders  and  consider- 
ably more. 

Flaundrish,  Flemish,  272. 

Fleming,  Flemish  resident  of  England,  4586. 

Galgopheye,  Gargaphia,  2626.  The  former  may  be  the  same 
as  the  latter,  and  the  latter  is  only  known  as  the  place 
in  which,  according  to  Ovid,  Actseon  was  torn  by  his 
hounds. 

Galice,  Galicia,  466.  To  this  province  in  Northwestern  Spain 


292 


PROPER  NAMES 


pilgrims  once  flocked  to  visit  the  shrine  of  St.  James  of 
Compostella. 

Galien,  Galen,  431.  This  Greek  physician  and  philosopher 
(130-200  a.d.)  left  numerous  works  and  was  a high  authority 
in  medicine. 

Gatesden,  John  Gatisden,  434.  He  was  a distinguished  physi- 
cian of  Oxford  not  long  before  the  birth  of  Chaucer. 

Gaufred,  Geoffrey  de  Vinsauf,  4537.  He  was  an  Englishman, 
flourished  in  the  twelfth  century,  and  wrote  in  Latin  Nova 
Poetria.  He  thought  he  was  a poet  and  could  teach 
others  by  his  example  to  be  poets  too. 

Gaunt,  Ghent,  in  East  Flanders,  448. 

Genilon,  Ganelon,  4417.  One  of  the  twelve  peers  of  Charle- 
magne ; he  caused  by  his  treachery  the  death  of  Roland  and 
the  defeat  at  Roncesvalles. 

Gerland,  Garland,  4573.  The  name  of  a dog. 

Gilbertyn,  Gilbertine,  434.  He  has  been  identified  with  Gil- 
bertus  Anglicus. 

Gootlond,  Gottland,  408.  Few  voyagers  went  farther  north 
than  this  island  in  the  Baltic. 

Grece,  Greece,  962. 

Grek,  Greek,  2899. 

Grete  See,  Mediterranean,  59. 

Haly,  Haly,  431.  An  Arabian  physician  and  astronomer  of 
the  twelfth  century. 

Hasdrubal,  Hasdrubal,  4553.  He  was  king  of  Carthage  when 
it  was  burnt  by  the  Romans,  146  b.c. 

Hereos,  Eros,  1374.  This  Greek  word  for  love  and  for  the 
love-god  is  here  used  of  the  despondency  of  love. 

Huberd,  Hubert,  269. 

Hulle,  Hull  in  Yorkshire,  404.  This  had  become  an  important 
port  in  the  thirteenth  century. 


PROPER  NAMES 


293 


Ilioun,  Ilion,  4546.  This  citadel  of  Troy  was  the  one  Chaucer 
had  read  about  in  Vergil. 

Inde,  India,  2156.  Chaucer’s  Inde  is  of  course  not  the  definite 
India  of  our  atlas  or  globe  ; but  one  should  know  that 
traders,  travellers,  and  missionaries  had  revealed  to  Europe 
the  wonderful  civilizations  of  Asia,  that  in  1306  Asia  had  a 
Christian  bishop,  and  in  1328  Jourdain  de  Severac  was 
made  bishop  of  Collam  in  India. 

Ipolita,  Hippolyte,  868.  Nothing  need  be  added  to  what  is 
contained  in  the  text,  except  that  there  are  many  varia- 
tions in  her  story  which  may  be  found  at  least  in  part  in 
any  classical  dictionary. 

Jakke  Straw,  Jack  Straw,  4584.  A leader  in  the  peasant  in- 
surrection of  1381. 

Jerusalem,  Jerusalem,  463. 

Jove,  Jupiter,  2222. 

Julian,  St.  Julian,  340.  His  legend  may  be  found  in  Mrs. 
Jameson’s  Sacred  and  Legendary  Art. 

Kenelm,  St.  Kenelm,  4300.  At  the  age  of  seven,  becoming 
king  of  the  Mercians  (821),  Cenhelm  was  murdered  at  the 
command  of  his  sister  under  whose  tutelage  he  was.  He 
had  dreamed  that  he  was  changed  into  a bird  and  flew  to 
heaven  from  the  top  of  a tree  bright  with  candles,  when  it 
was  felled  by  a friend. 

Kenulphus,  Kenulphus,  4301.  This  is  the  Latinized  form  of 
the  name  of  .Cenwulf,  king  of  Mercia  from  796  to  819. 

Lettow,  Lithuania,  54.  This  grand-duchy  afforded  a fine  field 
for  arms.  It  fought  with  Poles,  Russians,  and  Teutonic 
knights.  It  was  finally  Christianized  under  its  duke  Jagello, 


294 


PROPER  NAMES 


who  ascended  the  throne  of  Poland  in  1386.  There  are 
still  Lithuanians,  but  no  Lithuania. 

London,  London,  382. 

Loy,  St.  Eligius,  120.  St.  Eloi  (588-659)  was  a humble  saint,  a 
layman  who  helped  the  poor,  a goldsmith  whose  work  pleased 
kings  ; but  for  all  that  he  was  made  bishop  of  Noyon. 

Lucina,  Lucina,  2085.  She  was  invoked  by  women  in  labor ; 
the  light-bringer,  she  was  later  identified  with  Diana. 

Lyde,  Lydia,  4328.  The  Lydian  empire  in  Asia  Minor  came 
to  an  end  with  the  conquest  of  Croesus  by  Cyrus,  546  b.c. 

Lyeys  (Lay as  in  Froissart),  Ayas,  58.  This  place  was  won 
from  the  Turks  by  Pierre  of  Lusignan  about  1367.  It  is 
near  Adana  in  Asia  Minor. 

Lygurge,  Lycurgus,  2129.  Lycurgus,  a king  of  Thrace  in  myth, 
need  not  be  identified  with  this  king  of  Thrace  in  romance. 

Macrobeus,  Macrobius,  4313.  This  Roman  grammarian  (fifth 
century)  has  left  a commentary  on  Cicero’s  Dream  of 
Scipio  and  a collection  of  dialogues  on  multifarious  topics. 

Malkin,  name  of  a servant  girl,  4574. 

Malle,  Moll,  4021.  Here  the  name  of  a sheep. 

Mars,  Mars,  975.  Mars  had  been  among  the  Romans  a great 
warrior,  the  ideal  warrior,  the  god  of  warriors.  What  an 
on-gazer  might  mistake  for  the  worship  of  Mars  still  goes 
on  in  the  delight  of  men  in  representations  of  him  in  art. 
Could  Chaucer  believe  that  any  such  being  ever  had  existed? 
The  Mars  that  he  could  see  in  the  sky,  the  wandering  star, 
the  red  planet  — you  would  search  Chaucer’s  works  in 
vain  to  find  any  hint  of  his  guesses  about  its  nature.  As 
for  his  influence  on  human  affairs,  with  many  things  that 
astrologers  said  about  it  Chaucer  expressly  states  that  he 
did  not  agree. 


PROPER  NAMES 


295 


Marte,  Mars,  2021. 

Maudelayne,  Magdalen,  410.  Here  the  name  of  a ship. 

Maure,  St.  Maure,  173.  He  was  a disciple  of  St.  Benedict, 
founded,  it  was  said,  a Benedictine  abbey  in  France  in 
543. 

Meleagre,  Meleager,  2071.  He  gave  to  Atalanta  the  prize  of 
the  hunt.  His  mother’s  brothers  objected  and  he  slew 
them.  His  mother  thereupon  burned  the  brand  which  she 
had  once  carefully  preserved,  for  he  was  fated  to  live  only 
so  long  as  it  lasted. 

Mercenrike,  Mercia,  4302.  An  Anglian  kingdom  in  Central 
England,  which  lasted  from  the  sixth  to  the  ninth  century. 

Mercurie,  Mercury,  1385.  A Homan  god  about  whom  the 
stories  came  to  be  told  that  had  been  told  about  the  Greek 
Hermes.  He  appears  to  the  souls  of  the  sleeping  and  the 
dead,  with  a communication  from  some  god.  Chaucer  lias 
in  mind  Ovid’s  description  of  the  way  in  which  he  was 
arrayed. 

Middelburgh,  Middelburg,  277.  It  was  once  a great  commer- 
cial town,  a member  of  the  Hanseatic  League.  It  is  in 
Holland  on  the  island  of  Walcheren. 

Minotaur,  Minotaur,  980.  This  monster,  a human  body  and 
bull’s  head,  was  fed  in  the  Cretan  labyrinth  on  youths  and 
maidens,  sent  as  tribute  from  Athens,  till  he  was  slain  by 
Theseus. 

Narcisus,  Narcissus,  1941.  This  “ faire  of  yore  agon  ” in  pun- 
ishment for  his  scorn  of  others  was  made  to  perish  with 
love  of  his  own  reflection  in  the  water. 

Nero,  Nero,  2032.  The  ugrete  Nero”  is  of  course  the  em- 
peror ; there  were  other  Neros.  He  died  by  his  own  hand 
to  escape  his  pursuers,  68  a.d. 


296 


PROPER  NAMES 


Northfolk,  Norfolk,  619.  In  this  county,  which  was  once  a 
part  of  East  Anglia,  the  name  Chaucer  occurs  as  early  as 
1275. 

Ore welle,  Orwell,  277.  The  port  of  Orwell  was  at  Harwich  in 
Essex,  opposite  the  confluence  of  the  Stour  and  the  Orwell. 

Oxenford,  Oxford,  285. 

Palamoun,  Palamon,  1070. 

Palatye,  Palathia,  65. 

Perotheus,  Pirithous,  1191.  He  was  helped  by  Theseus  in  the 
conflict  with  the  Centaurs,  and  also  in  his  attempt  to  take 
Proserpine  from  Hades,  according  to  the  ancient  myth. 
That  he  was  sought  there  after  his  death  by  Theseus, 
Chaucer  learns  from  Le  Roman  de  la  Rose. 

Pertelote,  Partlet,  4060. 

Phebus,  Phoebus,  1493.  This  which  meant  originally  an  attri- 
bute of  the  sun-god,  or  the  sun  as  god,  had  been  used  so 
much  that  it  had  come  to  mean  no  more  than  the  sun. 

Phisiologus,  Physiologus,  4461.  Sometimes  used  as  the  name 
of  an  author,  but  really  the  name  of  a sort  of  book,  other- 
wise called  Bestiary,  which  tells  a few  facts,  or  fictions, 
about  a few  animals,  with  their  signification.  Thus,  we 
may  learn  from  the  pigeon  not  to  rob,  for  she  does  not  live 
on  prey.  ’ 

Pirrus,  Pyrrhus,  4547.  Priam’s  death  at  the  hand  of  Achilles’s 
son,  Pyrrhus,  was  esteemed  the  most  affecting  incident  at 
the  fall  of  Troy. 

Pluto,  Pluto,  2082.  He  was  the  husband  of  Ceres’  daughter, 
Proserpine.  He  had  grieved  Ceres  by  carrying  off  her 
daughter,  Proserpine. 

Poules,  St.  Paul’s  (Cathedral),  509. 


PROPER  NAMES 


297 


Priam,  Priam,  4548.  The  last  king  of  Troy.  His  story  was 
once  known  to  all  schoolboys.  If  you  cannot  read  Latin, 
you  may  read  it  in  some  translation  of  the  JEneid  rather 
than  in  a classical  dictionary. 

Pruce,  Prussia,  53  ; Prussian,  2122.  Pruce  was  a Baltic  land 
which  the  Order  of  the  Teutonic  Knights  had  wrested  from 
the  heathen  Slavs,  and  were  holding  against  the  Poles  and 
Lithuanians. 

Razis,  Rhasis,  432.  A cyclopsedia  of  medicine  was  left  by  this 
Arabian-Persian  who  died  about  932. 

Romayn,  Roman,  4555. 

Rouncivale,  Hospital  of  the  Blessed  Mary  of  Rouncyvalle  at 
Charing  (London),  670. 

Ruce,  Russia,  54.  We  would  like  to  know  what  Ruce  meant 
to  Chaucer ; something  quite  different  certainly  from  what 
Russia  means  to  us. 

Rufus,  Rufus,  430.  A Greek  physician  at  Ephesus  about 

100  A.D. 

Russel,  Russell,  4524.  It  means  the  reddish  one. 

Salamon,  Solomon,  1942. 

Sampson,  Samson,  2466. 

Satalye,  Attalia,  58.  This  place,  of  which  one  modern  name  is 
Adalia,  is  on  the  south  coast  of  Asia  Minor. 

Scariot,  (Judas)  Iscariot,  4417. 

Scithia,  Scythia,  867.  A vague  name  at  the  best  for  Central 
Asia. 

Serapion,  Serapion,  432.  An  Arabian  physician  of  the  eleventh 
century. 

Sinon,  Sinon,  4418.  He  pretended  to  be  a deserter  from  the 
Greeks  and  betrayed  Troy  into  their  hands. 


298 


PROPER  NAMES 


Southwerk,  Southwark,  20.  Now  a portion  of  London  south 
of  the  Thames. 

Spayne,  Spain,  409. 

Stace,  Statius,  2294.  He  is  here  called  Stace  of  Thebes  as  the 
author  of  the  Thebais.  He  was  a Roman  poet  who  died 
about  86  a.d. 

Tabard,  an  inn,  20.  Its  sign  was  a sleeveless  coat,  such  as 
heralds  wear. 

Talbot,  name  of  a dog,  4573. 

Tars,  Tartary  (Skeat),  Tarsus  (Liddell),  2160. 

Thebes,  Thebes,  933.  The  chief  city  of  Boeotia,  ruled  over  by 
Creon. 

Thomas,  St.  Thomas  k Becket,  826.  He  was  slain  in  1172,  and 
canonized  in  1220.  His  shrine  was  destroyed  in  the  time 
of  Henry  VIII. 

Trace,  Thrace,  1638.  A region  north  of  Greece. 

Tramissene,  Tremessen,  62.  A Moorish  kingdom  in  Africa, 
near  the  present  Gulf  of  Tremessen. 

Troye,  Troy,  2833.  Chaucer’s  statements  about  Troy  are 
derived  from  Latin  writers,  mostly  post-classical. 

Turkye,  Turkey,  66. 

Turnus,  1945.  This  king  of  the  Rutulians  in  Italy  was  slain 
by  iEneas. 

Venus,  Venus,  1904. 

Vulcanus,  Vulcan,  2222. 

Ware.  Ware,  692.  This  town  is  in  Hertfordshire  about  twenty 
miles  north  of  London. 

Watte,  Walter,  643. 

William,  William  the  Conqueror,  324. 


PROPER  NAMES 


299 


Ypres,  Ypres,  448.  A town  in  West  Flanders,  once  famous 
for  its  linen  and  woollen. 

Zephirus,  Zephyrus,  Zephyr,  5.  The  west  wind. 


GLOSSARY 


a,  on ; a Goddes  name,  in 

God’s  name,  $54. 
a,  ah,  1785. 
able,  fit,  167. 
abood,  delay,  965. 
aboute,  around,  488  ; in  turn, 
890. 

abrayde,  awoke,  4198. 
abregge,  abridge,  2999. 
abye,  aboughte,  abought, 

suffered  from,  2303  ; suffered 
for,  3100. 

accomplice,  accomplish,  2864. 
accord,  acord,  agreement, 
838  ; harmony,  4069. 
accordant,  acordaunt,  suit- 
able, 37,  4026. 
achat,  purchase,  571. 
achatour,  purchaser,  568. 
acorde,  agree,  830  ; it  suited, 
244. 

actes,  records,  4326. 
a-day,  in  the  day,  2623. 
adoun,  down,  downwards,  393. 
adrad,  afraid,  605. 


afered  (aferd),  afraid,  628. 
affeccioun,  affection,  1158. 
affile,  render  smooth,  712. 
affrayed,  scared,  4468. 
after,  according  to,  125. 
after  oon,  alike,  341. 
agaste,  agaste,  agast, 
frighten,  2931  ; Arcita  him 
(himself)  agaste,  A.  was 
affrighted,  2424. 
agayn,  again,  against,  toward, 
2680. 

agoon,  agon,  ago,  gone,  past, 
2802. 

agrief,  amiss,  4083. 
aiel,  grandfather,  2477. 
al,  all,  entire ; quite,  wholly, 
76;  although,  297,  734. 
alaunt,  wolf-hound,  2148. 
alderbest,  best  of  all,  710. 
alderman,  chief  officer  of  a 
guild,  372. 

ale-stake,  support  of  a tavern 

sign,  667. 

algate,  always,  571. 


301 


302 


GLOSSARY 


allegge,  allege,  3000. 
aller,  alder,  of  all  ; our  aller, 

of  us  all,  823 ; hir  aller,  of 
them  all,  586. 
als,  also,  3976. 
amblere,  ambling  nag,  469. 
amiddes,  in  the  midst,  2009. 
amonges,  amongst,  759. 
amorwe,  on  the  morrow,  822. 
amounte,  signify,  2362. 
anhange,  hang,  4252. 
anight,  by  night,  1042. 
anlas,  a short  two-edged  dag- 
ger, 357. 

apaye,  satisfy,  1868. 
apike,  adorn,  365. 
appalle,  weaken,  3053. 
apparaillinge,  preparation, 
2913. 

appetyt,  desire,  1680. 
arest,  rest  (of  spears),  2602. 
arette,  consider,  726,  2729. 
arm-greet,  thick  as  one’s  arm, 
2145. 

armipotente,  powerful  in 
arms,  1982. 

arraye,  equip,  2046 ; arrange, 
2867. 

ars-metrike,  arithmetic,  1898. 
artow,  art  thou,  1141. 
arwes,  arrows,  107. 
as,  as  if,  81 ; as  keep,  pray 


keep,  2302 ; as  nouthe,  at 
present,  462  ; as  out  of  that 
contree,  out  of  that  country 
at  least,  1345  : as  by  wey  of 
possibilitee,  as  far  as  possi- 
bilities are  concerned,  1291. 
ascencioun,  ascending  degree, 
4045. 

ascendent,  ascendant,  the 
point  of  the  ecliptic  on  the 
eastern  horizon  at  any  mo- 
ment, 417. 

ashame,  put  to  shame,  2667. 
ashen,  ashes,  1302. 
aslake,  assuage,  1760. 
asp,  aspen,  2921. 
aspect,  angle  made  at  the  eye 
by  two  heavenly  bodies,  1087. 
aspye,  see,  1420. 
assaut,  assault,  989. 
assaye,  try,  1811. 
assege,  besiege,  881. 
assise,  assize,  session,  314. 
assoilling,  absolution,  661. 
asterte,  asterte,  astert,  es- 
cape, 1595. 

astone,  astonie,  astonish,  2361. 
astore,  store,  609. 
astronomye,  astrology,  414. 
asure,  azure,  4052. 
athamaunt,  adamant,  1305, 
a three,  in  three,  2934. 


GLOSSARY 


303 


at-rede,  outwit,  2449. 
at-renne,  outrun,  2449. 
atte,  at  the,  29. 
attempre,  temperate,  4028. 
auctour,  author,  4174. 
auter,  altar,  1905. 
avaunce,  be  profitable,  246. 
avaunt,  boast,  227. 
avauntour,  boaster,  4107. 
aventure,  adventure,  chance, 
25. 

avisioun,  vision,  dream,  4304. 
avow,  vow,  2237. 
avys,  advice,  consideration, 
opinion,  786. 
axe,  ask,  1347. 

axing,  demand,  bidding,  1826. 
ayeyns,  against,  1787. 

bacheler,  aspirant  to  knight- 
hood, 80. 

bake-mete,  meat  pie,  343. 
balled,  bald,  198. 
bane,  destruction,  1097. 
baner,  banner,  966. 
bar,  baren,  bore,  105,  721. 
barbour,  barber,  2025. 
bareyne,  barren,  1244. 
barres,  ornamental  bands  or 
bosses,  329. 

batailled,  embattled,  indented 
like  a battlement,  4050. 


bauderye,  gayety,  1926. 
baudrik,  bawdrik,  baldric, 
suspended  from  one  shoul- 
der, and  passing  under  the 
opposite  arm,  116. 
bedes  (peire  of),  rosary,  159. 
beest,  beast,  4089. 
beggestere,  beggar  (originally 
of  females  only),  242. 
beme,  trumpet,  4588. 
benedicite,  give  praise  to 
(him)  ; often  a mere  excla- 
mation, ben’dic’te,  1785. 
benigne,  kind,  518. 
bente,  grassy  slope,  1981. 
bere,  bar,  bore,  born,  bear, 
carry,  796,  2646. 
bere,  bear,  1640. 
bere,  bier,  2871. 
berie,  berry,  207. 
beste,  atte,  in  the  best  man- 
ner, 29. 

bestes,  beasts,  2929. 
bet,  better,  242. 
bete,  beat,  4512 ; ybete,  em- 
bossed, 979. 
bete,  kindle,  2253. 
beth  war,  beware,  4520. 
bi-bledde,  covered  with  blood, 
2002. 

bifalle,  bifel,  bifallen,  bi 
falle,  befall,  19. 


304 


GLOSSARY 


biforen,  biforn,  bifore,  be- 
fore, in  front,  beforehand, 
377,  450,  1376. 
bihote,  promise,  1854. 
bi-japed,  befooled,  1585. 
biknowe,  acknowledge,  1556, 
4251. 

bile,  bill  (of  a bird),  4051. 
biquethe,  bequeath,  2768. 
biraft,  taken  away  from,  1361. 
biseken,  beseech,  918. 
bisette,  bisette,  biset,  em- 
ploy, 279  ; establish,  3012. 
biside,  beside,  874  ; of  biside, 
from  the  neighborhood  of, 
445. 

bisides,  him  bisides,  about 
him,  402. 

bismotered,  stained,  76. 
bisy,  busy,  321. 
bit,  bids,  187. 

bithought,  I am,  I have 
thought  (of),  767. 
bitwixen,  bitwixe,  betwixt, 
277,  880. 

biwreye,  disclose,  reveal,  2229, 
4241. 

blankmanger,  a compound  of 
minced  fowl  with  cream,  rice, 
almond,  sugar,  eggs,  etc., 
387. 

blede,  bleed,  1801. 


bleynte,  blenched,  started 
back,  1078. 
blive,  quickly,  2697. 
bocher,  butcher,  2025. 
bokeler,  buckler,  112. 
bokelinge,  buckling,  2503. 
boket,  bucket,  1533. 
boles,  bulls,  2139. 

bond,  bound,  2991. 

bone,  prayer,  2269. 
boon,  bone,  1177. 
boras,  borax,  630. 
bord,  table,  52. 

borwe  (to),  in  pledge,  1622. 
bote,  remedy,  424. 
boteler,  butler,  4324. 
botme,  bottom,  4291. 
bouk,  body,  2746. 
bour,  inner  room,  4022. 
bowes,  boughs,  2917. 
box,  boxwood,  4588. 
bracer,  armguard  (against  the 
bowstring),  111. 
brak,  broke,  1468. 
brast,  burst,  4408. 
brede,  breadth,  1970. 
breed,  bread,  341. 
breem,  bream  (fresh- water 
fish),  350. 
breke,  break,  551. 
breme,  fiercely,  1699. 
bren,  bran,  4430. 


GLOSSARY 


305 


brend,  burnished,  2162. 
brenne,  burn,  2331. 
brenninge,  burning,  996. 
bresten,  burst,  1980. 
bretful,  brimful,  687,  2164. 
bretherhed,  brotherhood  (of 
a religious  order),  511. 
briddes,  birds,  2929. 
brond,  firebrand,  2339. 
brood,  broad,  155,  3024. 
brouke,  use,  4490. 
brouding,  embroidery,  2498. 
broun,  brown,  109. 
browe,  eyebrow,  627,  2134. 
broyded,  braided,  1049. 
bulte,  built,  1548. 
bulte,  bolt,  sift  (of  grain), 
4430. 

burdoun,  bass  accompaniment, 
673. 

burgeys,  burgess,  citizen,  369. 
burned,  burnished,  1983. 
busk,  bush,  2013. 
but,  unless,  582,  782,  2245. 
but  if,  unless,  351,  656. 
but  that,  except  that,  3002. 
by  and  by,  side  by  side,  1011. 
bying,  buying,  569. 

caitif,  caitives,  captive, 
wretch,  wretched,  924,  1552, 
1717. 


can,  can,  know,  know  how, 
210,  1780,  2312. 
cantel,  portion,  3008. 
careful,  sorrowful,  1565.  i 
careyne,  carrion,  carcass, 
2013. 

carf,  carved,  100. 
carl,  churl,  fellow,  545. 
carole,  dance  in  a ring  with 
accompaniment  of  singing, 
1931. 

carpe,  talk,  474. 
carte,  cart,  4208 ; chariot, 
2041. 

cas,  chance,  844 ; case,  797 ; 

cases  of  law,  323. 
cas,  quiver  (of  arrows),  2358. 
cast,  plot,  2468. 
caste,  conjecture,  2172  ; (cast 
for  casteth),  consider,  2854. 
casuelly,  accidentally,  4291. 
catapuce,  spurge  (Euphorbia 
lathyris),  4155. 

catel,  property,  goods,  373, 
4017. 

celle,  branch  convent,  ruled 
by  a prior,  172  ; cell  (of  the 
brain),  1376. 

centaure,  centaury  (Centau- 
rea  nigra),  4153. 
cerial,  cerrial  oak,  bitter  oak 
(Quersus  cerris),  2290. 


x 


306 


GLOSSARY 


ceruce,  white  lead,  630. 
ceynt,  cincture,  girdle,  329. 
champartye,  participation  in 
•power,  1949. 

chaped,  having  scabbards  with 
metal  tips,  336. 
chapeleyne,  chaplain,  164. 
chapman,  trader,  merchant, 
397. 

char,  chariot,  2138. 
charge,  task,  733;  ground  of 
reproach,  2287. 
charitable,  kind,  143. 
charitee,  love  (Christian  char- 
ity), 452. 

chasteyn,  chestnut  tree,  2922. 
chaunterye,  chantry,  place 
with  endowment  for  singing 
masses,  510. 

chees,  choose  (thou),  1595. 
chere,  countenance,  appear- 
ance, entertainment,  747, 913. 
cherl,  countryman,  churl, 
2459. 

chevetayn,  captain,  2555. 
chevisaunce,  loans,  282. 
chirche,  church  (as  place  for 
burial  or  funeral),  2760. 
shirking,  shrill  sounds,  2004. 
tfrivachye,  expedition  on 
horseback,  85. 
chuk,  cluck,  4364. 


citee,  city,  939. 
citole,  small  oblong  box  with 
strings  across  the  lop  to  be 
struck  with  fingers,  1959. 
citryn,  citron  (in  color),  2167. 
clarree,  wine,  honey,  and 
spices  mixed  and  strained, 
1471. 

clene,  clean,  133 ; clennesse, 

purity,  506. 

clepen,  call,  name,  121;  cry 
out,  643. 

clerk,  cleric,  scholar,  man  of 
learning,  285. 

cloisterer,  resident  in  a clois- 
ter, 259. 

clomben,  ascended,  4388. 
cloos,  closed,  4522. 
clos,  enclosure,  4550. 
clothered,  clotted,  2745. 
clothes,  tapestries,  draperies, 
2281. 

cofre,  coffer,  chest,  298. 
cok,  cock,  823. 
colera  (Latin),  choler,  4118. 
colered,  provided  with  collars, 
2152. 

colerik,  of  bilious  humor  or 
temperament,  587. 
colfox,  brant-fox,  4405. 
colpons,  shreds,  679 ; billets 
(of  wood),  2867. 


GLOSSARY 


307 


cometh,  come,  839. 
communes,  commons,  com- 
moners, 2509. 

compassing,  contrivance, 
1996. 

compeer,  comrade,  670. 
complexioun,  complecci- 
oun,  temperament,  consti- 
tution, bodily  habit,  333, 
4114. 

compleynt,  complaint,  2012. 
composicioun,  agreement, 
848,  2651. 

condicioun,  condition,  qual- 
ity, 38. 

confus,  confused,  2230. 
conscience,  pity,  sympathy, 
142. 

conseil,  counsel,  1141 ; coun- 
sellor, 1147. 

conserve,  preserve,  2329. 
constellacioun,  the  position 
of  the  sun,  the  moon,  and 
the  planets  with  regard  to 
one  another,  1088. 
contek,  strife,  2003. 
contenaunce,  appearance, 
1916. 

contrarie,  adversary,  1859. 
contree,  country,  216. 
conveye,  escort,  2737. 
cop,  top,  554. 


cope,  a long  cape  or  cloak 
worn  by  monks  and  friars, 
260. 

coppe,  cup,  134. 
corage,  heart,  11. 
coroune,  crown,  2875. 
correccioun,  correction,  2461. 
corrumpable,  subject  to  de- 
cay, 3010. 
corven,  cut,  2696. 
cosin,  cousin,  kinsman,  1131. 
cote,  hovel,  2457. 
cote-armure,  coat,  embroid- 
ered with  armorial  insignia, 
worn  over  armor,  1016. 
couched,  embroidered,  2161, 
laid,  2933. 

coude,  could,  knew,  knew  how 
to,  95,  476,  130. 
countour,  auditor  (of  ac- 
counts), 359. 

countrefete,  imitate,  139. 
courtepy,  short  overcoat  of 
course  stuff,  290. 
couthe,  renowned,  14. 
coverchief,  kerchief,  453. 
covine,  trickery,  604. 
cowardye,  cowardice,  2730. 
coy,  quiet,  119. 
cracching,  scratching,  2834. 
crafty,  skilful,  1897. 
crike,  creek,  409. 


308 


GLOSSARY 


Cristofre,  St.  Christopher’s 
likeness,  115. 

crop,  shoot,  7 ; treetop,  1532. 

croys,  cross,  699. 

crulle,  curly,  81. 

cure,  care,  thought,  303,  1007, 

2853. 

curious,  skilful,  577. 
curs,  curse  (excommunica- 
tion), 655. 

curteys,  courteous,  250. 
cut,  lot,  835. 

daliaunce,  gossip,  211. 
damoysele,  miss,  4060. 
dampned,  condemned,  1175. 
dar,  dare,  1151. 
darreyne,  to  decide,  to  decide 
one’s  right  to,  1631,  1609. 
daun,  lord,  sir,  1379,  3982. 
daunger,  danger,  liability,  con- 
trol, 402,  663,  1849. 
daungerous,  haughty,  517. 
daweninge,  dawning,  4072. 
daweth,  dawns,  1676. 
dayerye.  dairy,  597. 
dayesye,  daisy,  332. 
debat,  debate,  strife,  1754. 
debonaire,  gracious,  2282. 
dede,  deed,  742. 
deduyt,  pleasure,  2177. 
deed,  dead,  145. 


deedly,  deathlike,  913. 
deef,  deaf,  446. 
deel,  part,  share,  bit,  1825, 
4024. 

defye,  renounce,  spurn,  1604 ; 
defy,  4361. 

degree,  step,  used  for  seats, 
1890  ; situation,  1841 ; rank, 
40. 

del,  see  deel. 

delivere,  quick,  active,  84. 
delve,  dig,  536. 
delyt,  delight,  pleasure,  335, 
1679. 

deme,  deem,  1881. 
departe,  separate,  1134. 
depeynted,  depicted,  2027. 
dere,  injure,  1822. 
derke,  dark,  1995. 
derre,  dearer,  1448. 
desdeyn,  disdain,  789. 
despitous,  merciless,  cruel, 
516,  1596. 

destreyne,  oppress,  distress, 
1455. 

dette,  debt,  280. 
devise,  relate,  994 ; plan, 
1254. 

devoir,  duty,  2598. 
devys,  direction,  816. 
deye,  dairywoman,  4036. 
deyne,  deign,  4371. 


GLOSSARY 


309 


deyntee,  valuable,  168 ; dainty, 
346. 

deys,  dais,  370. 
diapred,  having  the  surface 
figured  in  the  weaving,  2158. 
dich,  ditch,  4038. 
diched,  provided  with  a moat, 
1888. 

dight,  dressed,  1041  ; made 
ready,  1630. 

digne,  worthy,  141 ; too  re- 
served, 517. 

dike,  make  ditches,  536. 

disconfitinge,  disconfiture, 

defeat,  2719,  1008. 
disconfort,  discouragement, 
2010. 

disfigured,  changed  in  aspect, 
1403. 

disherited,  disinherited,  2926. 
dishevele,  dishevelled,  683. 
disjoynt,  failure,  2962. 
di  spence,  expenditure,  ex- 
pense, 441,  1882. 
disport,  readiness  to  be 
amused,  137. 

disposicioun,  position,  1087  ; 
disposal,  2364. 

disputisoun,  disputation,  4428. 
divininge,  conjecturing,  2521. 
divinistre,  diviner  (in  no  bad 
sense),  2811. 


divisioun,  distinction,  1780. 
doke,  duck,  4580. 
dokke,  cut  short,  dock,  590. 
domes,  decisions,  323. 
doon,  don,  do,  do,  make,  cause, 
78. 

dormant,  kept  standing  (of  a 
table),  353. 
dorste,  durst,  227. 
doughtren,  daughters,  4019. 
doute,  doubt,  487. 
dowves,  doves,  1962. 
drecche,  trouble,  4077. 
drede,  fear,  1776. 
dredeful,  timid,  1479. 
drenching,  drowning,  2456. 
dresse,  put  in  order,  106,  2594. 
dreye,  dry,  3024. 
dreynt,  drowned,  4272. 
droughte,  drought,  2. 
droupe,  droop,  107. 
drugge,  drudge,  1416. 
duk,  duke,  860. 
dure,  endure,  2770. 
duske,  grow  dim,  2806. 
dwelle,  remain,  1661 ; delay, 
4340. 

dye,  die,  1109. 
dys,  dice,  1238. 

ecclesiaste,  minister,  708. 
ech,  each,  39. 


310 


GLOSSARY 


echoon,  echon,  each  one,  820. 
eek,  also,  5. 
eet,  ate,  2048. 

effect,  fact,  purpose,  event, 
2207,  2259,  2482. 
eft,  again,  1669. 
elde,  old  age,  2447. 
ellebor,  hellebore  (Helleborus 
niger),  4154. 
elles,  else,  375. 

embrouded,  covered  with  em- 
broidery, 89. 

emforth,  to  the  extent  of,  2235. 
empoysoning,  poisoning,  2460. 
emprise,  enterprise,  2540. 
encens,  incense,  2429. 
encombred.  stuck  fast,  508 ; 

wearied,  1718. 
encrees,  increase,  2184. 
endelong,  lengthwise,  1991  ; 
from  one  end  to  the  other  of, 
2678. 

endite,  relate,  1380  ; compose, 
95. 

engendred,  produced,  4,  421. 
engendren,  are  produced,  4113. 
engined,  tortured,  racked, 
4250. 

enhorte,  encourage,  2851. 
enoynt,  anointed,  2961. 
ensample,  example,  496. 
entente,  purpose,  1000. 


entune,  intone,  123. 
envined,  having  store  of  wine, 
342. 

equinoxial,  equator,  4046. 

er,  before,  36. 
erbe,  herb,  see  ive. 
erchedeken,  archdeacon,  658. 
ere,  plough,  886. 
eres,  ears,  556. 
erst,  first,  sooner,  776,  1566. 
eschaunge,  exchange,  278. 
eschue,  eschew,  avoid,  3043. 
ese,  entertainment,  768. 
esed,  entertained,  29. 
esily,  easily,  469. 
espye,  discover,  1112. 
estat,  state,  condition,  203, 522. 
estres,  interior  parts,  1971. 
esy,  moderate,  441. 
eteme,  eternal,  1109 ; eter- 
nally, 3015. 

even,  just,  1864 ; proper,  83. 
evene,  evenly,  1523. 
everich,  every,  each,  every 
one,  241,  371,  1186. 
everich  a,  every  single,  733. 
everichon,  every  one,  31. 
ew,  yew  tree,  2923. 
expouned,  expounded,  4305. 
ey,  egg,  4035. 
eyen,  eyes,  152. 
eyle,  ail,  1081. 


GLOSSARY 


311 


fader,  father,  100. 
fadme,  fathoms,  2916. 
faire,  safely,  without  opposi- 
tion, 984  ; carefully,  2697. 
falding,  sort  of  coarse  cloth, 
391. 

falle,  befall,  586. 
falwe,  fallow,  yellowish,  1364. 
famulier,  familiar,  on  good 
terms,  215. 

fare,  behaviour,  1809. 
fare,  go,  proceed,  fare,  1265, 
1372,  2435. 
farsed,  stuffed,  233. 
faste,  near,  close,  719,  1478. 
faught,  fought,  399. 
fayn,  glad,  gladly,  766. 
fedde,  fed,  146. 
feeld,  field,  plain,  886,  977. 
feend,  fiend,  4476. 
fel,  felle,  cruel,  2630,  1559. 
felawe,  fellow,  partner,  648, 
1624. 

felaweshipe,  fellowship,  32. 
feld,  felled,  cut  down,  2924. 
fer,  far,  388,  1850. 
ferde,  acted,  1647  ; behaved, 
1372. 

ferforthly  (so),  to  such  a de- 
gree, 960. 

fermacies,  remedies,  2713. 
feme,  distant,  14. 


ferre,  farther,  48. 
ferreste,  farthest,  494. 
ferther,  further,  36. 
ferthing,  small  portion,  134, 

255. 

feste,  entertain,  2193. 
festne,  fasten,  195. 
fet,  fetched,  brought,  819, 
2527. 

fetis,  shapely,  157. 
fetisly,  elegantly,  124. 
fettres,  fetters,  1279. 
fey,  faith,  1126. 
feyne,  invent,  feign,  705. 
fil,  fillen,  fell,  845,  949. 
file,  file,  polish,  2152. 
firre,  fir  tree,  2921. 
fithele,  fiddle,  296. 
flat  our,  flatterer,  4515. 
flee,  fly,  4132. 
fleen,  flee,  escape,  1170. 
fleigh,  flew,  4529. 
flete,  swim,  float,  2397. 

flex,  flax,  676. 

fley,  flew,  4362. 
flikeringe,  fluttering,  1962. 
flotery,  fluttering,  wavy,  2883. 
flour,  flower,  4. 
flour-de-lys,  fleur-de-lis,  238. 
floytinge,  playing  on  the  flute, 

whistling,  91. 
folwe,  follow,  2367. 


312 


GLOSSARY 


fo,  foo,  foe,  63. 
fond,  found,  701. 
foom,  foam,  1659. 
foot-mantel,  mantle  for  a 
horse,  often  reaching  to  his 
feet  (it  might  be  folded  over 
the  rider’s  hips),  472. 
for,  against,  4307 ; because, 
443  ; in  spite  of,  2745 ; in 
order  that,  2879 ; for  to,  in 
order  to,  to,  13,  78. 
for-blak,  very  black,  2144. 
fordo,  destroyed,  1560. 
forn-cast,  foreordained,  4407. 
forneys,  furnace,  202,  559. 
for-old,  very  old,  2142. 
for-pined,  wasted  away  (by 
torment),  205 ; worn  out, 
1453. 

fors,  force ; do  no  fors  of, 

make  no  account  of,  4131. 
for-slewthen,  waste  in  sloth, 
4286. 

forster,  forester,  117. 
forther-moor,  farther  on,  2069. 
forthre,  further,  aid,  1148. 
forthy,  therefor,  1841. 
fortunen,  predict  favorably, 
417  ; make  lucky  or  unlucky, 
2377. 

forward,  agreement,  promise, 
33,  829. 


forwite,  know  beforehand, 
4424. 

forwiting,  foreknowledge, 

4433. 

forwoot,  foreknows,  4424. 
foryete,  forget,  1882. 
foryeve,  forgive,  743. 
fother,  load  (cart-load),  530; 

great  quantity,  1908. 
foundre,  stumble  (of  a horse), 
2687. 

fowel,  fowl,  foul,  fowl,  bird, 

9,  190. 

foyne,  thrust,  1654,  2550. 
frakenes,  freckles,  2169. 
frankeleyn,  substantial  house- 
holder, franklin,  216. 
fraternitee,  guild  (of  crafts- 
men), 364. 

fredom,  liberality,  46. 
freendlich,  friendly,  2680. 
frere,  friar,  208. 
frete,  eat,  2019. 
frc,  from,  44. 
fulfille,  fill  full,  940. 
fume,  vapors  (in  the  body), 
4114. 

fumetere,  fumitory  (Fumaria 
officinalis),  4153. 

gabbe,  lie,  speak  idly,  4256. 
gadere,  gatherer,  824. 


/ 


GLOSSARY 


313 


galingale,  sweet  cy perus,  381. 
game,  sport,  853  ; pleasure, 
2286. 

gamed,  it  pleased,  634. 
gan,  began,  did,  would ; gan 
preye,  would  pray,  301  ; 
gan  espye,  did  see,  1112. 
gappe,  gap,  1639. 
gargat,  throat,  4525. 
garleek,  garlic,  634. 
gastly,  terrible,  1984. 
gat,  got,  703. 

gat-tothed,  having  the  teeth 
far  apart,  468. 

gaudegrene,  weld-green  (dyed 
green  with  weld,  Reseda  lu- 
teola),  2079. 

gauded,  furnished  with  beads 
called  gauds,  159. 
gay,  finely  dressed,  74. 
gayler,  jailer,  1064. 
gayne,  avail,  1176. 
gaytre  (goat-tree),  buckthorn 
(Rhamnus  catharticus),4155. 
gentil,  noble  (by  birth  or  breed- 
ing), 72;  excellent,  718; 
good-natured,  647. 
gere,  gear,  armor,  2180 ; uten- 
sils, 352  ; apparel,  365  ; man- 
ners, 1531. 

gerful,  changeable,  1538. 
gerland,  garland,  666. 


gerner,  garner,  593. 
gery,  changeable,  1536. 
gesse,  suppose,  think,  82, 
117. 

gete,  get,  obtain,  291. 
gigginge  (g  hard),  fitting  with 
straps,  2504. 
gile,  deceit,  guile,  2596. 
gilteless,  guiltless,  1312. 
ginglen  (g  soft),  jingle,  170. 
gipoun  (g  soft),  a short  coat 
worn  under  armor,  but  some- 
times without,  75,  2120. 
gipser  (g  soft),  pouch,  purse, 
357. 

girles,  young  people  of  either 
sex,  664. 

gise,  guise,  way,  663. 
gladere,  one  that  makes  glad, 

2223. 

glede,  live  coal,  1997. 
gobet,  fragment,  696. 
godhede,  godhead,  divinity, 
2381. 

goldes,  marigolds,  1929. 
goliardeys,  buffoon,  560. 
good,  property,  581,  611. 
goon,  gon,  go,  walk,  go,  12, 
771. 

goost,  gost,  spirit,  ghost,  205. 
goot,  goat,  688. 
goune,  gown,  93. 


314 


GLOSSARY 


governaunce,  management, 
281 ; self-control,  4024  ; con- 
trol, 4055. 
grace,  davor,  1245. 
graunt,  concession,  1306. 
graunt-mercy,  thanks,  4160. 
grece,  grease,  135. 
gree,  highest  grade,  victory, 
2733. 

grene,  green  color,  103,  159; 

green  sprigs,  1512. 
greve,  grove,  1495 ; branches, 
1507. 

grisly,  horrible,  1363. 
grone,  groan,  4076. 
grope,  test,  644. 
grote,  groat,  4148. 
ground,  texture,  453. 
groyning,  murmuring,  2460. 
grucche,  murmur,  grumble, 
3045. 

gruf,  flat  on  the  face,  949. 
grys,  gray  fur,  194. 
gye,  guide,  1950. 

haberdasher,  seller  of  hats, 
361. 

habergeoun,  coat  of  mail,  76. 
hadde,  hade,  had,  554. 
hakke,  hack,  2865. 
halwes,  saints,  14. 
hamer,  hammer,  2508. 


han,  have,  849. 
hardily,  certainly,  156. 
hardy,  bold,  405. 
harlot,  young  person,  fellow, 
rascal,  647. 

harlotryes,  ribald  jests,  561. 
hameised,  equipped,  114. 
harneys,  harnays,  armor, 
1006  ; fittings,  2896. 
harre,  hinge,  550. 
harrow,  help,  4235. 
harye,  harie,  drag,  2726. 
hauberk,  coat  of  mail,  2431. 
haunt,  practice,  skill,  447. 
heed,  head,  198. 
heelp,  helped,  1651. 
heep,  crowd,  host,  575. 
heer,  hair,  589. 
heer,  here,  1791. 
heeth,  heath,  6,  606. 
hegge,  hedge,  4408. 
heigh,  high,  316  j great,  1798  ; 
in  heigh  and  lowe,  in  all 
things,  817. 
hele,  health,  1271. 
hele,  heal,  2706. 
hele,  hide,  conceal,  4245. 
hem,  them,  39. 
hemself,  themselves,  1254, 
heng,  hung,  160. 
henne,  hence,  2356. 
hennes,  hens,  4056. 


GLOSSARY 


315 


nente,  catch,  seize,  get,  299, 957. 
heraud,  herald,  2533. 
herbergage,  lodging,  4179. 
herberwe,  harbor,  403 ; inn, 
765. 

herde,  herdsman,  603. 
here,  her,  to  her,  1421,  2057. 
here-agayns,  against  this,  3039. 
herkne,  hearken,  listen,  1526. 
hert,  hart,  1689. 
herte,  heart,  150. 
herte-blood,  heart’s  blood, 
2006. 

herte-spoon,  breast-bone  (?), 
2606. 

heste,  command,  2532. 
hete,  promise,  2398. 
hethen,  heathen,  66. 
hethenesse,  heathen  lands,  49. 
heve,  heave,  550. 
hewe,  complexion,  hue,  394. 
hewe,  hew,  cut,  1422. 
hider,  hither,  672. 
hidous,  hideous,  1978. 
highte,  be  called,  1557 ; am 
called,  1558 ; was  called,  616 ; 
were  called,  2920. 
highte,  height ; on  highte, 
aloud,  1784. 

hine,  servant,  hind,  603. 
hipe,  hip,  472. 
hir,  her,  119. 


hir,  their,  11  ; of  them,  586. 
ho,  call  for  silence,  2533. 

hold,  possession,  4064. 
holde,  hold,  4625 ; held, 

esteemed,  1307. 

hole,  whole,  533. 
holpen,  helped,  18. 
holt,  grove,  6, 
holwe,  hollow,  289. 
hond,  hand,  399. 
honest,  creditable,  246. 
honge,  hang,  2410. 

hool,  whole,  3006. 

hoom,  home,  400. 
hoppesteres,  tossing,  dancing, 

2017. 

hors,  horse,  94  ; horses,  74. 
hostiler,  innkeeper,  241. 
hote,  hot,  394  ; hody,  97. 
hound,  dog,  947. 
houpe,  whoop,  4590. 
housbondrye,  economy,  4018 
humblesse,  humility,  1781. 
hunte,  huntsman,  1678,  2628. 
hurtle,  hurl,  2616. 
hust,  hushed,  2981. 
hy,  high,  306. 
hye,  high,  271. 
hye,  hasten,  hie,  2274. 
hye,  haste,  2979. 

ilke,  same,  175. 


GLOSSARY 


316 

in,  inne.  inn,  2436,  4216. 
inequal,  hour  inequal,  hour  of 
varying  length,  2271. 
infect,  invalidated,  320. 
infortune,  misfortune,  2021. 
inne,  lodge,  2192. 
inne,  in,  within,  1618. 
inspire,  quicken,  breathe  life 
into,  6. 

ive,  ivy  ; erbe  ive,  herb  ivy 
(Ajuga  Chameepitys),  4156. 
ivele,  ill,  1127. 

jalous.  jealous,  1329. 
jangle,  chatter,  prate,  4625. 
janglere,  jester,  babbler,  660. 
jape,  trick,  705. 
jape,  befool,  mock,  1729. 
jeet.  jet,  4051. 
jet.  fashion,  mode,  682. 
jolitee,  sport,  1807 ; show, 
style,  680. 

jolyf,  jolif,  joyful,  4264. 
journee,  day’s  march,  2738. 
joynant,  adjoining,  1060. 
jugement,  decision,  778. 
juste,  joust,  tilt,  96,  2604. 
justes.  jousting-match,  2720. 
juwise,  sentence,  1739. 

keep,  care,  heed,  398,  503. 
kembd,  combed,  2143. 


kempe,  shaggy,  2134. 
kene.  sharp,  104. 
kepe,  keep,  442 ; keep  safe, 
276;  take  care,  130;  care, 
2960. 

keper,  keeper,  prior,  172. 
kerver,  carver,  1899. 
kerving,  carving,  1915. 
kind,  nature,  2451. 
kinrede,  kindred,  1286. 
knarre,  thick-set  fellow,  649. 
knarry,  gnarled,  1977. 
knave,  boy,  servant  lad,  2728. 
knobbe,  knob,  large  pimple, 
633. 

knowe,  know,  382 ; known, 
1203. 

kyn,  cows,  kine,  4021. 

laas.las,  cord,  392  ; snare,  1817. 
lacerte,  fleshy  muscle,  2753. 
lacinge,  lacing,  fastening,  2504. 
lad,  brought,  2620. 
ladde,  brought,  2275. 
lafte,  left,  omitted,  492. 
lak,  lack,  4034. 
lakked,  lakkede,  was  lacking, 
756,  2280. 

land,  lond,  country,  194,  702. 
langage.  language,  211. 
large,  large,  472  ; at  thy  large, 
at  large,  1283 ; ben  at  his 


GLOSSARY 


317 


large,  to  speak  in  general 
terms,  2288. 
large,  freely,  734. 

las,  snare,  1951. 

lasse  (and  more) , smaller  and 
greater,  1756. 

lat,  let,  188. 

late,  lately,  77,  690. 
latoun,  latten,  alloy  of  copper 
and  zinc,  699. 

launde,  glade,  clearing,  1691. 
laurer,  laurel,  1027. 
lauriol,  spurge  laurel  (Daphne 
laureola),  4153. 
laxatyf,  laxative,  4133. 
layneres,  straps,  thongs  (of 
armor),  2504. 
lazar,  leper,  245. 
lechecraft,  medical  skill,  2745. 
leed,  caldron,  boiler  (for  wash- 
ing, etc.),  202. 

leef,  dear,  pleasing,  1837  ; be- 
loved, 4069. 
lemes,  flames,  4120. 
lene,  lean,  287. 
lene,  lend,  611. 
lenger,  longer,  330. 
lengthe,  length,  height,  83. 
leoun,  lion,  1598. 
lere,  learn,  4296. 
lerne,  learn,  613. 
lese,  lose,  1215. 


lesing,  losing,  1707. 
lesinge,  lie,  deceit,  1927. 
lest,  pleasure,  joy,  132. 
leste,  (it)  may  please,  1848  ; 

(it)  pleased,  750. 
lete,  let,  leave,  1323. 
lette,  hinder,  889 ; refrain,  1317. 
letuarie,  electuary  (syrup  with 
other  ingredients),  426. 
leve,  leave,  1614. 
leve,  believe,  3088. 
levere,  dearer,  rather,  more 
desirable,  293. 

lewed,  ignorant,  lay  (not  of 
the  clergy),  502,  574. 
leye,  lay,  841. 
leyser,  leisure,  1188. 
licentiat,  one  licensed  by  the 
pope  to  hear  confession  and 
administer  penance  indepen- 
dently of  the  local  ordinaries. 
220. 

liche-wake,  watch  over  a 
corpse,  2958. 
licour,  moisture,  3. 
lief,  dear,  lief.  See  leef. 
liggen,  lie,  2205. 
ligne,  line,  lineage,  1551. 
limes,  limbs,  2135. 
limitour,  friar  licensed  to  beg 
for  alms  within  a certain  dis- 
trict, 209. 


318 


GLOSSARY 


linage,  lineage,  1110. 
lind,  lime  tree,  2922. 
list,  (it)  pleases,  583 ; liste, 
(it)  pleased,  102. 
listes,  lists,  place  enclosed  for 
tournaments,  63,  1713. 
litarge,  litharge,  white  lead, 
629. 

litel,  little,  87. 
lith,  limb,  4065. 
lith,  see  lyth. 
lives,  living,  2395. 
lode,  load,  2918. 
lodemenage,  pilotage,  403. 
lode  sterre,  pole  star,  lode- 
star, 2059. 

logge,  lodge,  resting-place, 
4043. 

logging,  lodging,  4185. 
loke,  look,  1783. 
loken,  enlocked,  4065. 
lokkes,  locks  (of  hair),  81. 
lond,  see  land, 
longe,  belong,  2791. 
looth,  distasteful,  odious,  486, 
1837. 

lordinges,  sirs,  gentlemen,  761. 
lore,  teaching,  527. 
los,  loss,  2543. 
losengeour,  flatterer,  4516. 
Jove-dayes,  appointed  days  for 
settling  disputes,  258. 


lovyere,  lover,  80. 
luce,  luce,  pike,  350. 
lust,  pleasure,  desire,  192, 1318 
lustily,  merrily,  1529. 
lustinesse,  pleasure,  1939. 
lusty,  joyful,  80. 

lye,  lie,  contradiction,  3015. 

lyf,  life,  71. 
lyk,  like,  590. 
lyth,  lies,  1218. 

maad,  made,  394. 
maister,  master,  261. 
maister-strete,  main  street, 
2902. 

maistow,  mayst  thou,  1236. 
maistrye,  mastery  ; maistrye 
(for  the),  eminently,  165. 
make,  match,  adversary,  2556. 
male,  wallet,  694. 
man,  man,  167  ; one,  4513. 
manace,  threat,  menace,  2003. 
manasinge,  threatening,  2035. 
maner,  sort  of,  kind  of,  71. 
mantelet,  short  mantle,  2163. 
manye,  mania,  1374. 
many  oon,  many  a one,  2118. 
marchant,  merchant,  270. 
mary-bones,  marrow  bones. 
380. 

mase,  maze,  perplexity,  4283. 
mat,  dejected,  955. 


GLOSSARY 


319 


matere,  matter,  727. 
matrimoigne,  matrimony, 
3095. 

maugre,  in  spite  of,  1607. 
maunciple,  steward  (who  pur- 
chases the  provisions),  544. 
maydenhode,  maidenhood, 
2329. 

mede,  mead,  meadow,  89. 
mede,  reward,  meed,  770. 
medlee,  of  a mixed  color, 
328. 

men,  one,  some  one,  149, 1524. 
mencioun,  mention,  893. 
mene,  mean,  intend,  793. 
mere,  mare,  541. 
mery,  merry,  235. 
meschaunce,  misfortune,  2009. 
meschief,  misfortune,  trouble, 
493,  2551. 

mester,  occupation,  1340. 
mesurable,  moderate,  435. 
mete,  befitting,  meet,  2291. 
mete,  meat,  food,  136. 
mete,  meet,  encounter,  1524. 
mete,  dream,  4445. 
meth,  mead  (drink),  2279. 
mewe,  coop  (for  fowls),  349. 
meynee,  household,  1258  ; fol- 
lowers, 4584. 
minister,  officer,  4233. 
minour,  miner,  2465. 


misboden,  insulted,  909. 
miscarie,  come  to  harm,  513. 
mishappe,  (it)  happens  ill  for, 
1646. 

mister,  handicraft,  613  ; sort 
of,  1710. 
mo,  more,  576. 

moche,  muche,  mochel,  mu- 
chel,  much,  great;  moche 
and  lite,  great  and  small, 
494. 

moder,  mother,  4486. 
moevere,  mover,  2987. 
mone,  moon,  2077. 
mone,  moan,  complaint,  1366. 
mood,  anger,  1760. 
moot,  mote,  may,  shall,  must, 
should,  ought  to,  232,  742. 
moralitee,  moral  (of  a tale), 
4630. 

mordre,  murder,  1256. 
mormal,  sore,  gangrene,  386. 
morne,  morning,  358. 
mortreux,  thick,  rich  soups, 
384. 

morweninge,  morning,  4492. 
morwe-tide,  morning  hour, 
4206. 

mosel,  muzzle,  2151. 
mottelee,  motley,  271. 
mountaunce,  amount,  value, 
1570. 


320 


GLOSSARY 


muchel,  mochel,  much,  great, 
2352 ; greatly,  258.  See 

moche. 

murie,  merry,  1386. 

naciouns,  people  from  dif- 
ferent nations,  53. 
nakers,  kettle  drums,  2511. 
nam  (ne  am),  am  not,  1122. 
namely,  especially,  1268. 
namo  (na  mo),  no  more,  101. 
napoplexie,  nor  apoplexy, 
4031. 

narette  (ne  arette),  impute 
not,  726. 

narwe,  narrow,  625. 
nas  (ne  was),  was  not,  251. 
nat,  not,  74  ; nat  but,  only, 
2722. 

nath  (ne  hath),  has  not,  923. 
nathelees,  nevertheless,  35. 
nayl,  nail,  2007  ; claw,  2141. 
ne,  not,  70  ; nor,  179. 
nede,  needful,  304. 
nedely,  necessarily,  4435. 
nedes,  necessarily,  1290. 
nedes-cost,  of  necessity,  1477. 
nedeth,  it  needs,  462. 
neer,  near,  1439. 
neer,  nearer,  968. 
neet,  neat,  cattle,  597. 
nekke,  neck,  238. 


ner,  nearer,  1850. 
nercotikes,  narcotics,  1472. 
nere  (ne  were),  were  not,  875. 
newe,  recently,  4239. 
nexte,  nearest,  1413. 
nice,  scrupulous,  398  ; foolish, 
4505. 

nightertale,  night-time,  97. 
nis  (ne  is),  is  not,  901. 
nolde  (ne  wolde),  would  not, 
1024. 

nones,  nonce  ; for  the  nones, 

for  the  nonce,  for  the  occa- 
sion, 379. 
nonne,  nun,  118. 
noot  (ne  wot),  know  not, 

284. 

norice,  nurse,  4305. 
norissing,  nutriment,  437. 
nose-thirles,  nostrils,  557. 
notabilitee,  noteworthy  fact, 
4399. 

not-heed,  crop-head,  109. 
nothing,  in  no  respect,  2505. 
nought,  not,  107. 
nouthe,  now,  at  present,  462. 
ny,  close,  588 ; nearly,  732  ; 
wel  ny,  almost,  1330. 

o,  one,  304,  738. 
obeisaunce,  obedience,  2974. 
observaunce,  respect,  1045. 


GLOSSARY 


321 


of,  by,  963  ; from,  420 ; in  re- 
spect to,  69. 
of,  off,  2676. 

offended,  injured,  909 ; 
stricken,  2394. 

Offensioun,  offence,  stroke, 
2416. 

offertorie,  sung  while  the  offer- 
ings were  collected,  710. 
office,  secular  employment, 
292. 

offring,  gift  of  alms  at  the 
altar,  450. 

ofte,  many  ; ofte  sithes,  often- 
times, 485  ; ofte  time,  often, 
52. 

on  live,  alive,  3039. 
ones,  once,  765. 
ook,  oak,  1702. 
o,  oon,  one  ; oon  and  oon, 
one  by  one,  679  ; many  oon, 
many  a one,  317  ; after  oon, 
equally  good,  341 ; like,  1012. 
ooth,  oath,  120. 
opie,  opium,  1472. 
oratorie,  chapel  for  private  de- 
votions, 1905. 

ordinaunce,  arrangement, 
2567. 

orgon,  organs  (as  the  organ 
was  once  called  from  Latin 
organa ),  4041. 

Y 


orient,  east,  1494. 
orisoun,  prayer,  2372. 
orlogge,  clock,  4044. 
ought,  aught,  at  all,  3045. 
oughte,  ought,  660. 
ounces,  small  portions,  strands, 
677. 

out,  abroad,  45. 
out-hees,  hue  and  cry,  2012. 
outher,  either,  1485. 
outrely,  utterly,  4419. 
out-ridere,  out-rider  (to  in- 
spect granges,  etc.),  166. 
over,  beyond,  2998. 
over,  upper,  133 ; overeste, 
uppermost,  290. 
overal.  everywhere,  216. 
overthwart,  crosswise,  1991. 
owher,  anywhere,  653. 
oynement,  ointment,  631. 
oynons,  onions,  634. 

paas,  pas,  pace ; foot-pace, 
825  ; paces,  yards,  1890. 
pace,  pass,  go,  1602  ; go  on, 
36  ; surpass,  574. 
paleys,  palace,  2199. 
palfrey,  horse,  207. 
pan,  brain  pan,  skull,  1165. 
paraments,  rich  apparel,  2501. 
par  amour,  with  real  human 
love,  1155. 


322 


GLOSSARY 


paramours,  with  devotion, 
2112. 

pardee,  a common  oath,  563. 
pardoner,  seller  of  indulgences 
(by  which  penance  was  re- 
mitted), 543. 
parfit,  perfect,  72. 
parishens,  parishioners,  482. 
parlement,  decree,  1306. 
parte,  part,  party,  side,  2582, 
3006. 

partrich,  partridge,  349. 
party,  partly,  1053. 
partye,  portion,  3008 ; parti- 
san, 2657. 

parvys,  church  porch,  310. 
pas,  foot  pace,  walk,  825 ; 
paces,  1890. 

passant,  surpassing,  2107. 
passe,  surpass,  448,  2885. 
patente,  letter  patent,  315. 
payen,  pagan,  2370. 
pecok-arwes,  arrows  with 
peacocks’  feathers,  104. 
pees,  peace,  532. 
peire,  see  peyre. 
pekke,  peck,  pick,  4157. 
penaunce,  penance,  223  ; suf- 
fering, 1315. 
penoun,  pennant,  978. 
perce,  pierce,  2. 
perrye,  jewellery,  2936. 


pers,  stutf  of  a sky-blue  color, 
439. 

persone,  persoun,  person, 
521 ; parson,  478. 
perturben,  disturb,  906. 
peyne,  torture,  1133. 
peyne  (one’s  self),  take  pains, 
139,  4495. 

peynte,  paint,  1934. 
peyre,  pair,  pair  of,  2121 ; set, 
159. 

pighte,  pitched,  2689. 
pikepurs,  pick-purse,  1998. 
piled,  deprived  of  hair,  thin, 
627. 

piler,  pillar,  1993. 
pilours,  robbers,  pillagers, 
1007. 

pilwe-beer,  pillow-case,  694. 
pinche  at,  find  fault  with,  326. 
pinched,  pleated,  151. 
pine,  suffering,  1324  ; torture, 
1746,  4249. 

pipen,  pipe,  whistle,  1838. 
pitaunce,  gift  of  food,  “good 
dinner,”  224. 

pitous,  compassionate,  143 ; 

sorrowful,  955. 
plat,  flat,  plain,  1845. 
plates,  iron  plates  (for  ar- 
mor), 2121. 

plentevous,  plentiful,  344. 


GLOSSARY 


323 


plesaunce,  pleasure,  2409. 
plesen,  please,  610. 
pley,  play,  sport,  1125. 
pleye,  play,  jest,  amuse  one’s 
self,  772. 

pleyinge,  amusement,  1061. 
pleyn,  plain,  1091 ; open, 
988t 

pleyn,  fully,  327. 
pleyne,  complain,  1251. 
pollax,  pole-axe,  2544. 
pomel,  round  part,  top,  2689. 
pomely,  dappled,  616. 
poraille,  poor  people,  247. 
port,  behavior,  69. 
portreiture,  drawing,  1915. 
portreyinge,  picture,  1938. 
pose,  suppose,  assume  (for 
argument’s  sake),  1162. 
post,  support,  800. 
poudre-marchant,  kind  of 
spice,  381. 

pouped,  puffed,  4589. 
poure,  pore,  look,  closely, 
185. 

povre,  poor,  225. 
poynaunt,  pungent,  352. 
poynt,  aim  and  end,  1501  ; 

case,  condition,  200. 
practisour,  practitioner,  422. 
press,  curl  papers,  81 ; mould, 
263. 


prest,  preest,  priest,  164. 
preve,  proof,  4173. 
preved,  proved,  3001. 
preye,  beseech,  1483. 
preyere,  prayer,  231. 
pricasour,  hard  rider,  189. 
prike,  spur,  2508  ; incite,  1043. 
prikke,  stab,  2606. 
prime,  first  fourth  of  the  time 
from  sunrise  to  sunset,  2189 ; 
nine  in  the  morning,  4387. 
prively,  secretly,  652. 
privetee,  private  affairs,  1411. 
profre,  proffer,  1415. 
propre,  own,  581. 
prow,  advantage,  profit,  4140. 
prys,  price,  815 ; renown,  67  ; 

praise,  2241. 
pulle,  pluck,  177,  652. 
pultrye,  poultry,  598. 
purchas,  perquisites,  private 
gain,  256. 

purchasing,  conveyancing, 
320. 

purchasour,  conveyancer,  318. 
pure,  very,  1279. 
purfiled,  bordered,  193. 
purtreye,  draw,  96. 
purtreyour,  draughtsman, 
1899. 

purveyaunce,  providence, 
1252. 


324 


GLOSSARY 


qualm,  disease,  2014. 
quelle,  kill,  4580. 
queynt,  quenched,  2321. 
queynt,  strange,  quaint,  1531. 
queynte,  went  out,  2334. 
quike,  alive,  1015. 
quiked,  became  alive,  2335. 
quite,  repay,  770 ; ransom, 
1032. 

quitly,  wholly,  1792. 
quod,  quoth,  said,  1234. 
quook,  trembled,  1576. 

rad ; hadde  rad,  had  read, 
4311  ; were  rad,  were  read, 
2595. 

rage,  fierce  blast,  1985. 
rage,  romp,  act  wantonly,  257. 
ransake,  ransack,  1005. 
rasour,  razor,  2417. 
raughte,  reached,  136. 
raunsoun,  ransom,  1024. 
rebel,  rebellious,  833. 
recche,  care,  heed,  1398. 
rechelees,  recchelees,  care- 
less, heedless,  179,  4297. 
reconforte,  comfort  again, 
2852. 

recorde,  bear  in  mind,  1745; 
remind,  829. 

rede,  read,  709 ; counsel,  3068. 
redily,  quickly,  promptly , 2276. 1 


! redy,  ready,  21. 
reed,  counsel,  advice,  1216 ; 

counsel,  adviser,  665. 
reed,  red,  153. 

registre,  record,  narrative, 

2812. 

regne,  kingdom,  realm,  rule, 
866,  1624.  , 

rekene,  reckon,  401. 
rekening,  reckoning,  600. 
reme,  realm,  4326. 
remenant,  remainder,  888. 
renges,  ranks,  2594. 
renne,  run,  2868. 
renning,  running,  551. 
rente,  rent  (received),  1443; 
rent  (given  for  exclusive 
right  to  beg),  256. 
repentaunce,  penitence,  1776. 
replecioun,  repletion,  4113. 
replicacioun,  reply,  1846. 
reportour,  reporter,  814. 
rescous,  rescue,  2643. 
rese,  to  shake,  1986. 
resoun,  reason,  right,  37,  274. 
resoune,  resound,  1278. 
respyt,  delay,  948. 
rethor,  orator,  4397. 
reule,  rule,  173. 
reuled,  ruled,  816. 
reve,  steward,  bailiff,  agent, 
542. 


GLOSSARY 


325 


revel,  revelry,  2717. 
revers,  reverse,  contrary,  4167. 
rewe,  have  pity,  2382  ; make 
sorry,  4287. 
rewe,  row,  line,  2866. 
rewful,  sorrowful,  2886. 
reysed,  gone  on  a military  ex- 
pedition, 54. 

richesse,  riches,  wealth,  1255. 
right,  direct,  2739. 
right,  just,  decidedly,  very,  257, 
757. 

rightes,  at  alle  rightes,  in  all 

respects,  1852. 
rise,  rise,  33. 
rit,  rides,  974. 
rite,  rite,  2284. 
rome,  roam,  wander,  1099. 
ronne,  ran,  4578. 
rood,  rode,  169. 
roos,  rose,  823. 
roost,  roast  meat,  206. 
roste,  roast,  383. 
rote,  fiddle  with  three  strings 
(?),  236. 

roughte,  recked,  cared,  4530. 
rouketh,  cowers,  crouches, 
1308. 

rouncy,  dray  horse,  farm  horse, 
390. 

roundel,  roundel,  roundelay, 
1529. 


route,  company,  troop,  rout, 
889. 

routhe,  ruth,  pity,  914. 
rudeliche,  rudely,  734. 
ruggy,  rough,  2883. 
rumbel,  rumbling  noise,  1979. 

sad,  serious,  2985. 
sadly,  firmly,  2602. 
salue,  salute,  1492. 
sangwyn,  sang  win,  stuff  of  a 
blood-red  color,  439 ; san- 
guine (of  temperament),  333; 
very  ruddy,  2168. 
sarge,  serge,  2568. 
saufly,  safely,  4398. 
saugh,  saw,  764. 
sautrye,  psaltery  (musical  in- 
strument), 296. 
save,  sage,  2713. 
savinge,  except,  2838. 
sawcefleem,  pimpled,  625. 
sawe,  saw,  did  see,  should  see, 
144. 

sawe,  saying,  saw,  1163 ; say- 
ing, talk,  1526. 
say,  saw,  did  see,  4304. 
scalled,  scurfy,  627. 
scapen,  escape,  1107. 
scarlet,  scarlet  stuff,  456, 
scarsly,  economically,  583. 
scathe,  a pity,  446. 


326 


GLOSSARY 


science,  knowledge  (of  law), 
316. 

sclendre,  slender,  scanty, 
4023. 

scole,  school,  125. 
scoler,  scholar,  260. 
scoleye,  attend  school,  study, 
302. 

scriptures,  writings,  treatises, 
2044. 

seche,  seek,  784. 
secree,  secret,  trusty,  4105. 
see,  sea,  59. 
seen,  see,  914. 
seet,  sat,  2075. 
sege,  siege,  56. 
seigh,  saw,  193. 
seistow,  sayest  thou,  1125. 
seke,  seek,  17. 
seke,  sick,  18,  245. 
selde,  seldom,  1539. 
selle,  sell,  barter,  278. 
selve,  self-same,  2584. 
sely,  poor,  4565. 
seme,  seem,  39. 
semely,  seemly,  751  ; becom- 
ingly, 123. 

semico.pe,  half-cope,  short 
cope,  262. 

sendal,  thin  silk,  440. 
sene,  visible,  manifest,  134, 
924. 


sentence,  significance,  306 ; 

meaning,  4355  ; subject,  4404. 
sergeant  of  the  lawe,  ser- 
geant-at-law, 309. 
serie,  series  of  reflections,  3067. 
servage,  servitude,  1946. 
servant,  lover,  1814,  2787. 
servisable,  willing  to  be  of 
service,  99. 
sesoun,  season,  19. 
seten,  hath  seten,  has  sat, 
1452. 

setes,  seats,  2580. 
sethe,  seethe,  boil,  383. 
sette,  set ; sette  to  hire,  sold 
or  leased,  507. 
seuretee,  surety,  1604. 
sewe,  follow,  4527. 
seye,  seyn,  say,  738. 
seyen,  saw,  4568. 
seyl,  sail,  696. 
seynd,  singed,  fried,  4035. 
seynte,  holy,  1721 ; saint,  120. 
shadwed,  shaded,  607. 
shake,  shaken,  406. 
shal,  shall, must,  am  to,  187, 853. 
shamfast,  modest,  2055. 
shap,  shape,  1889. 
shape,  intend,  772 ; prepare^ 
809  ; ordain,  1108. 
j shaply,  fit,  372. 

I shave,  shaven,  588. 


GLOSSARY 


327 


sheef,  sheaf,  104. 

sheld,  sheeld,  shield,  2122; 

name  of  a coin,  278. 
shende,  harm,  injure,  2754, 
4031. 

shene,  bright,  115. 
shent,  shente,  see  shende. 
shepne,  stable,  shed,  2000. 
shere,  pair  of  shears,  2417. 
sherte,  shirt,  1566. 
shet,  shut,  closed,  2597. 
shine,  shin,  386. 
shipman,  sailor,  skipper,  388. 
shirreve,  sheriff,  359. 
shiten,  defiled,  dirty,  504. 
sho,  shoe,  253. 

shode,  temple  (of  the  head), 
2007. 

shoon,  shone,  198. 
shorte,  shorten,  791. 
shortly,  briefly,  to  be  brief,  30. 
short-sholdred  (?),549. 
shot,  missile,  arrow,  2544. 
shoures,  showers,  1. 
shrewe,  beshrew,  curse,  4616. 
shrighte,  shrieked,  2817. 
shriked,  shrieked,  4590. 
shul,  shall,  1747. 
shuldres,  shoulders,  678. 
shullen,  shall,  3014. 
sighte,  foresight,  providence, 
1672. 


sik,  syk,  sick,  1600. 
sike,  sigh,  2985. 
siker,  sure,  3049. 
sikerly,  surely,  137. 
sikes,  sighs,  1920. 
siknes,  siknesse,  sickness, 
493,  1256. 
sin,  since,  601. 
singe,  sing,  236. 
sit,  sits,  1599. 
sithen,  since,  2102. 
sithes,  times,  485. 
sitte,  sit,  94. 
slake,  slow,  2901. 
slaughtre,  murder,  2031. 
slee,  slay,  661. 
sleep,  slept,  1474. 
sleighte,  cunning,  604 ; dex- 
terity, 1948. 
slepe,  sleep,  10. 
sleepy,  sleep-bestowing,  1387. 
slider,  slippery,  1264. 
slily,  cautiously,  1444. 
slogardye,  sluggishness,  1042. 
slough,  slew,  980. 
smerte,  smartly,  sharply,  149. 
smerte,  (it)  pains,  hurts,  230. 
smiler,  smiler,  flatterer,  1999. 
smite,  strike,  1220. 
smokinge,  full  of  smoke,  of 
incense,  2281. 
smoot,  smote,  149. 


328 


GLOSSARY 


snewed,  snowed,  345. 
snibben,  reprove,  523. 
socour,  succor,  help,  918. 
sodeynliche,  suddenly,  1575. 
sodeynly,  suddenly,  1118. 
softe,  softly,  2781. 
solas,  amusement,  entertain- 
ment, 798. 

solempne,  imposing,  impres- 
sive, 209  ; important,  364. 
solempnely,  pompously,  274. 
solempnitee,  pomp,  870. 
som,  some ; som  . . . som, 
one  . . . another,  1255-1257  ; 
somme  . . . somme,  some 
. . . others,  2516. 
somdel,  somewhat,  174. 
sorner,  summer,  394. 
somnour,  summoner  (of  delin- 
quents before  the  ecclesias- 
tical courts),  543. 
somtime,  at  some  time,  65. 
sondry,  various,  14. 
sone,  soon,  1022. 
song,  songe,  songen,  sang, 
1055. 

sonne,  sun,  7 ; of  the  sun, 
1051. 

soor,  sore,  pain,  1454. 
soor,  wounded,  grieved,  2695. 
sooth,  truth,  284. 
soothly,  truly,  117. 


sop,  bread  or  cake  in  some 
liquid,  334. 
soper,  supper,  348. 
sore,  sorrow,  pang,  2849. 
sore,  sorely,  148. 
sort,  destiny,  844. 
sorwe,  sorrow,  951. 
sory,  mournful,  2004. 
sote,  sweet,  1. 
sothe,  truth,  845. 
sotil,  fine,  2030;  skilful,  2049. 
soule,  soul,  510. 
soun,  sound,  674. 
soune,  sowne,  sound,  565 ; 

proclaim,  275. 
souple,  pliant,  203. 
sovereyn,  supreme,  67. 
sovereynly,  chiefly,  4552. 
sowed,  sewn,  685. 
space,  space  of  time,  87  ; room 
enough,  35  ; course,  176. 
spak,  spoke,  124. 
sparre,  wooden  beam,  990. 
sparth,  battle-^xe,  2520. 
sparwe,  sparrow,  626. 
speces,  species,  3013. 
special,  special ; in  special, 
especially,  444. 
specially,  in  particular,  15. 
spede,  speed,  prosper,  769; 

hasten,  1217. 
speke,  speak,  142. 


GLOSSARY 


329 


spere,  spear,  114. 
spiced,  foolishly  scrupulous, 
526. 

spicerye,  spices  and  gums, 
2935. 

spore,  spur,  2603. 
sprad,  spread,  2903. 
spronge,  spread  abroad,  1437. 
squyer,  squire,  79. 
stablissed,  established,  2995. 
stape,  advanced,  4011. 
starf,  died,  933. 
startlinge,  in  constant  motion, 
1502. 

stat,  state,  condition,  572. 
statue,  statue,  picture,  975. 
stede,  place ; in  stede  of, 
231. 

stede,  steed,  2157. 
stele,  steal,  562. 
stemed,  shone,  glowed,  202. 
stente,  leave  off,  903 ; stop, 
2442. 

stepe,  bright,  201. 

sterre,  star,  268. 

stert,  start ; at  a stert,  in  a 

moment  (with  one  bound), 
1705. 

sterte,  start,  leap,  952. 
sterve,  die,  1249. 
stevene,  voice,  2562 ; time, 
1524. 


stewe,  fish-pond,  350. 
stikkes,  palings,  4038. 
stille,  quietly,  1003. 
stinte,  leave  off,  1334  ; cease, 
2421. 

stith,  anvil,  2026. 
stiwardes,  stewards,  579. 
stok,  stock,  race,  1551  ; 

stokkes,  stumps,  2934. 
stoke,  stab,  2546. 
stomblem,  stumble,  2613. 
stonde,  stand,  745. 
stongen,  stung,  1079. 
stoor,  stock  (of  a farm),  598  ; 
telle  no  store  of,  u take  no 
stock  in,”  4344. 
storie,  legend  of  a saint  (or  the 
like),  709. 

stot,  undersized  horse,  cob,  615. 
stounde,  hour,  any  time,  1212. 
stout,  strong,  545  ; brave,  2154. 
straughte,  extended,  2916. 
straunge,  strange,  foreign,  13. 
strecche,  stretch,  4498. 
stree,  straw,  2918. 
streem,  stream,  464  ; current, 
402  ; beams,  rays,  1495. 
streight,  straight,  1690 ; 

straightway,  671. 
streit,  narrow,  1984  ; scanty, 
4179  ; strict,  174  ; drawn  (oJ 
a sword),  4547. 


330 


GLOSSARY 


strepe,  strip,  1006. 
streyne,  constrain,  4434. 
strike,  hank,  676. 
strive,  strive,  struggle,  1177. 
strond,  strand,  13. 
stroof,  strove,  vied,  1038. 
strook,  stroke,  1701. 
stryf,  quarrel,  strife,  1187. 
stubbes,  stubs,  stumps,  1978. 
subtil,  fine-wrought,  1054. 
subtilly,  craftily,  610. 
suffisaunce,  sufficiency,  490  ; 

contentment,  4029. 
suffisaunt,  sufficient,  1631. 
surcote,  surcoat,  overcoat,  617. 
sustene,  sustain,  1993. 
suster,  sister,  871. 
sustren,  sisters,  1019. 
suyte,  suit,  array,  2873. 
swelte,  grew  faint,  1356. 
swerd,  sword,  112. 
swere,  swear,  454. 
swete,  sweet,  5. 
swevene,  dream,  4086. 
swevenis,  dreams,  4111. 
swich,  such,  3. 
swink,  labor,  toil,  188. 
swinke,  work,  toil,  186. 
swinkere,  laborer,  toiler,  531. 
swough,  whistling  (of  the 
wind),  1979. 
swowne,  swoon,  913. 


tabard,  loose  outer  garment, 
somewhat  like  a blouse, 
541. 

taffata,  taffeta,  440. 
taille,  tally ; by  taille,  on  ac- 
count, 570. 

tak,  take  (thou),  1084. 
take,  taken,  3007. 
takel,  set  of  arrows,  archers’ 
gear,  106. 

tale,  tale,  831  ; telle  litel  tale 

of,  to  give  little  heed  to,  4308. 
talen,  tell  tales,  772. 
tapicer,  upholsterer,  362. 
tappestere,  hostess,  barmaid, 
241. 

targe,  target,  shield,  471. 
tarien,  delay,  waste,  2820. 
tartre,  tartar,  630. 
tas,  heap,  1005. 
teche,  teach,  308 ; direct,  4139. 
teching,  teaching,  518. 
telle,  tell,  38 ; count,  4308, 
4344. 

temple,  inn  of  court  (abode  of 
lawyers),  567. 
tene,  vexation,  3106. 
terciane,  tertian  (fever),  4149, 
tere,  tear,  1280. 
terme,  allotted  period,  1029; 
exact  words,  323;  periods, 
3028. 


GLOSSARY 


331 


testeres,  headpieces,  2499. 
text,  quotation  from  any  au- 
thority, 177. 
than,  thanne,  then,  12. 
thank,  expression  of  thanks, 
612 ; can  thank,  owes 
thanks,  1808  ; his  thankes, 
of  his  free  will,  1626,  for  his 
part,  2107  ; hir  thankes,  for 
their  part,  2114. 
that,  that  which,  what,  1425. 
thee,  thrive,  prosper,  4622. 
ther,  there,  43  ; where,  547  ; 

ther  as,  where,  172. 
therto,  besides,  moreover,  48, 
153. 

therwithal,  with  it,  566 ; 

thereupon,  1078. 
thider,  thither,  1263. 
thiderward,  thither,  2530. 
thikke,  thick-set,  549. 
thikke-herd,  thick-haired, 
2518. 

thilke,  that  same,  that,  182, 
1193. 

thing,  thing  or  things,  brief, 
writ,  deed,  etc.,  325 ; 
thinges,  holy  rites,  2293  ; 
business  matters,  4279. 
thinketh,  it  seems,  37. 
thirle,  pierce,  2710. 
thise,  these,  701. 


tho,  those,  498. 
tho,  then,  993. 

thoughte  (he),  he  thought, 
984. 

thoughte  (us),  it  seemed  to 
us,  785. 

thral,  enthralled,  1552. 
threed,  thread,  2030. 
threshe,  thrash,  536. 
threste,  thrust,  2612. 
thridde,  third,  1463. 
thriftily,  carefully,  105. 
throte,  throat,  2013. 
thryes,  thrice,  63. 
thurgh,  through,  920. 
thurghfare,  thoroughfare, 
2847. 

thurgh-girt,  pierced  through, 

1010. 

thyselven,  thyself,  1174. 
tide,  time;  tides,  tides,  401. 
tigre,  tiger,  2626. 
tiraunt,  tyrant,  961. 
til,  to,  180. 
til,  till,  until,  1760. 
tipet,  tippet,  cape,  233. 
tiptoon,  tiptoes,  4497. 
to,  too,  toe,  2726;  toon,  toes, 
4052  ; toos,  toes,  4370. 
tobreste,  break  in  pieces,  2611. 
tobrosten,  broken  in  pieces, 
2691. 


332 


GLOSSARY 


togidre,  together,  824. 
tohewen,  hew  in  twain,  2609. 
tollen,  take  toll  (as  a miller 
pays  himself  with  meal),  562. 
tonge,  tongue,  265. 
tonne-greet,  great  as  a tun, 
1994. 

tool,  weapon,  4106. 
top,  top  of  the  head,  590. 
toshrede,  cut  into  shreds,  2609. 
toun,  town,  217. 
tour,  tower,  1030. 
touret,  toret,  turret,  1909 ; on 
the  collar  of  a dog,  a projec- 
tion that  revolves  and  is 
pierced  for  a ring,  swivel- 
ring, 2152. 

traitour,  traitor,  1130. 
trapped,  furnished  with  trap- 
pings, 2890. 

trappures,  trappings  (for 
horses),  2499. 
traunce,  trance,  1572. 
trays,  traces  (of  harness), 
2139. 

trecherye,  treachery,  4520. 
trede,  tread,  3022. 
tresoun,  treason,  2001. 
tretee,  treaty,  1288. 
tretis,  well-proportioned,  152. 
trewe,  true,  531. 
trewely,  truly,  481. 


trompe,  trumpet,  674  ; trum- 
peter, 2671. 

tronchoun,  shaft  of  a spear, 

2615. 

trone,  throne,  2529. 
trouthe,  truth,  46 ; promise, 
1610. 

trowe,  believe,  155. 
trussed,  packed,  681. 
tukked,  tucked,  621. 
turne,  turn,  1488. 
turneyinge,  tournament,  2557. 
tweye,  two,  704. 
tweyne,  twain,  1134. 
twines,  of  twine,  2030. 

uncouth,  strange,  rare,  2497. 
undergrowe,  of  short  stature, 
156. 

undern,  latter  part  of  the  fore- 
noon, more  precisely  about 
eleven,  4412. 

undernethe,  beneath,  2077. 
undertake,  affirm,  288  ; con- 
duct affairs,  405. 
unknowe,  unknown,  126. 
unkonning,  inexperienced, 
2393. 

unset,  unappointed,  1524. 
unwist,  unknown,  2977. 
unyolden,  without  having 
yielded,  2642. 


GLOSSARY 


333 


up,  on,  1707. 
uphaf,  uplifted,  2428. 
upright,  face  upward,  2008. 
upriste,  uprising,  1051. 
up-so-doun,  upside  down, 
1377. 

upyaf,  gave  up,  2427. 
up-yolden,  yielded  up,  3052. 
us,  us,  748  ; for  us,  747. 
usage,  experience,  2448. 

vanishinge,  vanishing,  disap- 
pearance, 2360. 

vasselage,  good  service,  prow- 
ess, 3054. 

vavasour,  sub-vassal  (inferior 
to  baron),  360. 
venerye,  hunting,  166. 
venim,  venom,  poison,  2751. 
ventusinge,  cupping  (surgical 
operation),  2747. 
verdit,  verdict,  787. 
vernicle,  vernicle,  685. 
verraily,  truly,  338. 
verray,  true,  very,  72. 
vers,  verses,  4503. 
vertu,  virtue,  307  ; power,  4, 
2249. 

vertuous,  able  to  raise  money, 
251. 

vese,  veze,  gust  (of  wind), 
1985. 


vestiments,  garments,  2948. 
veyl,  vail,  695. 
veyn,  vain,  false,  1094. 
veyne- blood,  blood-letting, 
2747. 

viage,  voyage,  journey,  77, 723. 
vigilyes,  festival  eves,  377. 
vileinye,  unseemly  language 
or  conduct  or  thought,  any 
sign  of  low  breeding  or  vile 
nature,  disgrace,  2729. 
visite,  visit,  493. 
vitaille,  victuals,  provisions, 
248. 

vouche  sauf,  agree,  consent, 
807,  812. 

voyden,  to  get  rid  of,  2751. 
voys,  voice,  688. 

waille,  wail,  931. 
wake-pleyes,  funeral  games, 

2960. 

wal,  wall,  1909. 
walet,  wallet,  686. 
walke,  walk,  2309. 
wan,  won,  442. 
wanhope,  despair,  1249. 
wanie,  wane,  2078. 
wantoun,  free,  unconstrained, 
208. 

wantounesse,  gayety,  264. 
war,  wary,  309 ; aware,  157. 


334 


GLOSSARY 


war  him,  let  him  beware,  662. 
waste,  ruined,  1331. 
wastel  breed,  choice  bread, 
147. 

waterlees,  out  of  the  water, 
180. 

wawe,  wave,  1958. 
wayke,  weak,  887. 
wayle,  wail,  1221. 
waymentinge,  lamentation, 

995. 

wayte,  watch,  571  ; wayte 
after,  look  for,  expect,  525 ; 
seek  occasion,  1222. 
webbe,  weaver,  362. 
wed,  security ; to  wedde,  in 
pledge,  1218. 
wedde,  wed,  868. 
wede,  clothing,  1006. 
weel,  well,  2123. 
wel,  well,  384  ; fully,  24. 
wele,  well,  2231. 
wele,  happiness,  895. 
welle,  source,  spring,  3037. 
wende,  weende,  fancied,  1269. 
wende,  go,  16 ; pass  away, 
3025 ; he  wente  him,  he 
went,  2270. 

wene,  ween,  think,  fancy, 
1804. 

wepe,  weep,  144. 
wepne,  weapon,  1591. 


were,  wear,  75. 

were,  defend,  2550. 

werk,  work,  479. 

werke,  work,  779. 

werre,  war,  47. 

werreye,  make  war,  1484 ; 

make  war  against,  1544. 
werte,  wart,  555. 
wesh,  washed,  2283. 
wete,  wet,  1280. 

wex,  wax,  675. 

wexe,  grow,  become,  3024. 

wey,  weye,  way,  791. 
weye,  weigh,  1781. 
weylaway,  alas,  938. 
weyle,  see  wayle. 
whan,  whanne,  when,  18. 
what,  why,  184. 
whelkes,  pimples,  blotches, 

632. 

whelp,  cub,  2627  ; whelpe, 
puppy,  257. 

wher,  where,  897  ; wherever, 
2252. 

wher,  whether,  2397. 
whether,  which  (of  two), 
1856. 

which,  which,  161  ; who,  1412  ; 
whom,  568 ; what  kind  of 
(men),  40  ; which  a,  wliat  a, 
2675 ; which  that,  who,  986, 
whilom,  once,  formerly,  795. 


GLOSSARY 


335 


whippeltre,  cornel  tree,  2923. 
whyl,  while,  35. 
whyt,  white,  238. 
widwe,  widow,  253. 
wight,  person,  living  being,  71, 
280. 

wighte,  weight,  2145. 
wike,  week,  1539. 
wikke,  wicked,  evil,  1087. 
wilfully,  voluntarily,  4557, 
4622. 

wille,  pleasure,  desire,  1317. 
wilne,  desire,  2114. 
wilow,  willow  tree,  2922. 
wiltow,  wilt  thou,  1156. 
wimpel,  wimple,  151. 
wirche,  work,  2759. 
wise,  way,  manner,  1743. 
wisly,  surely,  truly,  1863. 
wiste,  knew,  224. 
wit,  judgment,  understanding, 
279. 

wite,  know,  1260. 
with,  by,  2018,  2724. 
withholde,  kept  in  retirement, 

511. 

withouten,  withoute,  with- 
out, 538  ; besides,  461. 
withseyn,  withseye,  gainsay, 
805  ; deny,  1140. 
witing,  knowledge,  1611. 
wive,  wives,  see  wyf. 


wlatsom,  hateful,  4243. 
wo,  lamentation,  900 ; wo 
was  his  cook,  woe  to  his 
cook,  351. 
wode,  wood,  2297. 
wodebinde,  woodbine,  1508. 
wofuller,  sadder,  1340. 
wol,  wolt,  woltow,  woln, 
wold,  wolde,  wolden,  will, 
wilt,  wilt  thou,  would,  etc., 
42,  144,  1544. 

wommanhede,  womanly  feel- 
ing, 1748. 

wonder,  wonderful,  2073 ; 

wondrously,  1654. 
wonderly,  wondrously,  84. 
wone,  habit,  wont,  335. 
wone,  dwell,  388,  2927. 
woning,  dwelling,  house,  606. 
wonne,  conquered,  51. 
wood,  mad,  582. 
woodly,  madly,  1301. 
woodnesse,  madness,  2011. 
wook,  awoke,  1393. 
woot,  know,  389 ; wost, 
knowest,  1174 ; wostow 
knowest  thou,  1163. 
worship,  honor,  1912. 
worshipe,  reverence,  2251. 
worshipful,  honorable,  1435. 
wortes,  herbs,  4411. 
worthinesse,  bravery,  50. 


336 


GLOSSARY 


worthy,  distinguished,  47 ; 

wealthy,  respectable,  217. 
wostow,  knowest  thou,  2304. 
wrastle,  wrestle,  2961. 
wrecche,  wretched,  1106  ; sor- 
rowful creature,  931. 
wreke,  wreak,  avenge,  96 L 
wrethe,  wreath,  crown,  2145. 
wrighte,  workman,  614. 
writ,  writes,  4313. 
wrooth,  wroth,  angry,  451. 
wroughte,  wrought,  497. 
wyd,  wide,  491. 
wyf,  wife,  445  ; to  wive,  to 
wife,  1860 ; wives,  women, 
wives,  234. 
wyn,  wine,  334. 
wys,  wis,  surely,  2786. 
wys,  wise,  68  ; make  it  wys, 
be  too  particular  about  it,  785. 

yaf,  gave,  1441  ; cared,  177. 
ybeen,  been,  4487. 
ybete,  beaten,  979. 
ybore,  yborn,  carried,  borne, 
378,  2694. 
yborn,  born,  1019. 
ybounden,  bound,  1149. 
ybrent,  burnt,  946. 
y brought,  brought,  1111. 
y clenched,  clenched,  riveted, 
1991. 


ycleped,  yclept,  called,  410, 

376. 

yclothed,  clothed,  clad,  1048. 
ycome,  come,  77. 
ycorve,  cut,  2013. 
ydo,  done,  2534. 
ydon,  done,  2676. 
ydoon,  done,  4610. 
y dr  a we,  drawn,  396. 
ydriven,  driven,  2007. 
ydropped,  bedropped,  2884. 
ye,  ye,  you,  769. 
ye,  eye,  10. 
yeddinges,  songs,  237. 
yeer,  year,  347. 
yeldehalle,  guild  hall,  370. 
yelding,  produce,  596. 
yelleden,  yelled,  4579. 
yelpe,  boast,  2238. 
yelwe,  yellow,  1929. 
yeman,  yeoman,  101. 
yemanly,  like  a yeoman,  106. 
yerd,  yard,  garden,  4037. 
yerde,  rod,  wand,  1387 ; 
switch,  149;  yard  (length), 
1050. 

yet,  moreover,  612 ; as  yet, 
291 ; yet  now,  just  now.: 
1156. 

yeve,  give,  232. 
yfalle,  fallen,#25. 
yfetered,  fettered,  1229. 


GLOSSARY 


337 


yfounde,  found,  1211. 
ygo,  gone,  286. 

ygrounde,  ground,  whetted, 
2549. 

yholde,  held,  regarded,  2374  ; 

held,  celebrated,  2958. 
yhurt,  hurt,  2709. 
yif,  give  (thou),  2260. 
yiftes,  gifts,  2198. 
yive,  give,  225. 
yiven,  given,  915. 
yknowe,  known,  423. 
ylad,  drawn,  530. 
ylaft,  left,  2746. 
yliche,  alike,  2526. 
ylogged,  lodged,  4181. 
ylyk,  like,  592 ; alike,  2734 ; 

ylyke,  like,  1539. 
ymaked,  made,  2065. 
ymet,  met,  2624. 
ymeynd,  mixed,  mingled,  2170. 
ynough,  enough,  373. 
yolle,  shout,  2672. 
yond,  yonder,  1099. 
yong,  young,  79. 
yore  agoon,  for  a long  time, 
1813. 

youling,  loud  lamentation, 
1278. 


yow,  you,  34. 
ypayed,  paid,  1802. 
ypreved,  proved,  485. 
y punished,  punished,  657. 
yraft,  snatched  away,  2015. 
yronne,  run,  8 ; clustered, 
2165;  was  yronnen  in,  had 
rushed  to,  2693. 
yscalded,  scalded,  2020. 
ysene,  visible,  592. 
yserved,  served,  963. 
yset,  appointed,  1635. 
yseyled,  sailed,  4289. 
yshorn,  shorn,  589. 
y shrive,  shriven,  226. 
yslayn,  slain,  2708. 
yspreynd,  sprinkled,  2169. 
ystiked,  stuck,  1565. 
ystorve,  dead,  2014. 
ysworn,  sworn,  1132. 
ytaught,  taught,  127. 
yteyd,  tied,  457. 
ywedded,  wedded,  3098. 
ywimpled,  provided  with  a 
wimple,  470. 

ywis,  certainly,  truly,  4389. 
ywrite,  written,  4632. 
ywrye,  covered,  2904. 


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Andersen’s  Pairy  Tales.  Translated  from  the  Danish  by 
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Arabian  Nights.  Edited  by  Clifton  Johnson. 

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Clarke,  Mercer  University,  Macon,  Ga. 

Baker’s  Out  of  the  Northland. 

Blackmore’s  Eoraa  Boone.  Edited  by  Albert  L.  Barbour, 
Superintendent  of  Schools,  Natick,  Mass. 

Boswell’s  Eife  of  Johnson.  Abridged.  Edited  by  Mary  H. 

Watson. 

Browning’s  Shorter  Poems.  Edited  by  Franklin  T.  Baker, 
Teachers  College,  New  York  City. 

Mrs.  Browning’s  Poems.  Selections.  Edited  by  Heloise 
E.  Hersey. 

Bryant’s  Thanatopsis,  Sella,  and  other  Poems.  Edited  by 
J.  H.  Castleman,  Michigan  Military  Academy,  Orchard 
Lake,  Mich. 

Bulwer-Eytton’s  East  Bays  of  Pompeii.  Edited  by  J.  H. 
Castleman. 

Banyan’s  The  Pilgrim’s  Progress.  Edited  by  Processor 
Hugh  Moffatt,  Central  High  School,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 
Burke’s  Speech  on  Conciliation.  Edited  by  S.  C.  Newsom, 
Manual  Training  High  School,  Indianapolis,  Ind. 
Bums’  Poems  and  Songs.  Selected  by  P.  M.  Buck,  Jr. 
Byron’s  Shorter  Poems.  Edited  by  Ralph  Hartt  Bowles, 
Instructor  in  English  in  The  Phillips  Exeter  Academy, 
Exeter,  N.  H. 

Byron’s  Childe  Harold’s  Pilgrimage.  Edited  by  A.  J. 
George. 

Carlyle’s  Essay  on  Burns,  with  Selections.  Edited  by 
Willard  C.  Gore,  Armour  Institute,  Chicago,  111. 
Carlyle’s  Heroes  and  Hero  Worship.  Edited  by  Mrs* 
Annie  Russell  Marble. 

Carroll’s  Alice  in  Wonderland.  Edit*id  by  Charles  A* 
McMurry, 


Pocket  Series  of  English  Classics-  -Continued 


Chaucer’s  Prologue  to  the  Book  of  the  Tales  of  Canter- 
bury* th<*  Knight’s  Tale,  and  the  Nun’s  Priest’s  Tale, 

Edited  by  Andrew  I?*graiiam. 

Church’s  The  Story  of  the  Iliad. 

Church’s  The  Story  of  the  Odyssey. 

Coleridge’s  The  Ancient  Mariner.  Edited  by  T.  F.  Hunt- 
ington, Leland  Stanford  Junior  University. 

Cooper’s  Last  of  the  Mohicans.  Edited  by  W.  K.  Wickes, 
Principal  of  the  High  School,  Syracuse,  N.  Y. 
Cooper’s  The  Beersiayer. 

Cooper’s  The  Spy.  Edited  by  Samuel  Thurber,  Jr. 

Dana’s  Two  Years  before  the  Mast.  Edited  by  Homer  E. 
Keyes,  Dartmouth  College. 

Defoe’s  Robinson  Crusoe.  Abridged.  Edited  by  Clifton 

Johnson. 

Defoe’s  Robinson  Crusoe.  Part  I Edited  by  Charles  R. 

Gaston. 

DeQuincey’s  Confessions  of  an  English  Opium-Hater. 

Edited  by  Arthur  Beatty,  University  of  Wisconsin. 

DeQuincey’s  Joan  ol  Arc  and  The  English  Mail-Coach. 

Edited  by  Carol  M.  Newman,  Virginia  Polytechnic 
Institute. 

Dickens’s  A Christmas  Carol  and  The  Cricket  on  the 
Hearth.  Edited  by  James  M.  Sawin  and  Ida  M.  Thomas. 
Dickens’s  David  Copperfield.  Edited  by  Edwin  Fairley.  2 
vols. 

Dickens’s  A Tale  of  Two  Cities.  Edited  by  H.  G.  Buehler, 
Hotchkiss  School-  Lakeville,  Conn.,  and  L.  Mason. 
Dryden’s  Falamon  and  Arcite.  Edited  by  Percival  Chubb, 
Early  American  Orations,  1760-1824.  Edited  by  Louie  R. 
Heller.  Instructor  in  English  in  the  De  Witt  Clinton 
High  School,  New  York  City. 

Edward’s  Sermons.  Selections.  Edited  by  H.  N.  Gardiner, 
Professor  of  Philosophy,  Smith  College. 

Emerson’s  Earlier  Poems.  Edited  bv  O.  C.  Gallagher. 
Emerson’s  Essays.  Selected.  Edited  by  Eugene  D. 
Holmes. 

Emerson’s  Representative  Men.  Edited  by  Philo  Melvyn 
Buck,  Jr.,  William  McKinley  High  School,  St.  Louis, 
Mo. 

English  Narrative  Poems.  Edited  by  Claude  N.  Fuess  and 
Henry  W,  Sanborn. 

Epoch-making  Papers  in  United  States  History.  Edited  by 

M.  S.  Brown,  New  York  University. 

Pranklin’s  Autobiography. 

Mrs.  Gaskell’s  Cranford.  Edited  by  Professor  Martin  W. 

Sampson,  Indiana  University. 

George  Eliot’s  Silas  Marner.  Edited  by  E.  L.  Gulick, 
Lawrenceville  School,  Lawrenceville,  N.  J. 

George  Eliot’s  Mill  on  the  Ploss.  Edited  by  Ida  Aushhk- 

mann. 

Goldsmith’s  The  Deserted  Village  and  The  Traveller 

Edited  by  Robert  N.  Whiteford,  High  School,  Peoria, 


Pocket  Series  of  English  Classics — Continued 


Goldsmith’s  Vicar  of  Wakefield.  Edited  by  H.  \v.  Boyn- 
ton, Phillips  Academy,  Andover,  Mass. 

Gray’s  Elegy  and  Cowper’s  Joim  Gilpin.  Edited  by  J.  H. 

Castleman. 

Grimm’s  Fairy  Tales.  Edited  by  James  H.  Fassett,  Super- 
intendent of  Schools,  Nashua,  N.  H. 

Hale’s  The  Man  Without  a Country.  Edited  by  S.  M. 

Tucker. 

Hawthorne’s  Grandfather’s  Chair.  Edited  by  H.  H.  Kings- 
ley, Superintendent  of  Schools,  Evanston,  111. 
Hawthorne’s  The  House  of  the  Seven  Gables.  Edited  by 

Clyde  Furst. 

Hawthorne’s  Mosses  from  an  Old  Manse.  Edited  by  C.  E. 

Burbank. 

Hawthorne’s  Tangle  wood  Tales.  Edited  by  R.  H.  Beggs. 
Hawthorne’s  Twice-Told  Tales.  Edited  by  C.  R.  Gaston. 
Hawthorne’s  The  Wonder-Book.  Edited  by  L.  E.  Wolfe, 
Superintendent  of  Schools,  San  Antonio,  Texas. 
Holmes’  Autocrat  of  the  Breakfast  Table.  Preparing. 

Holmes’  Poems  (Selections).  Edited  by  J.  H.  Castleman, 
Homer’s  Iliad.  Translated  by  Lang,  Leaf  and  Myers. 
Homer’s  Odyssey.  Translated  by  Butcher  and  Lang. 
Hughes’  Tom  Brown’s  School  Days.  Edited  by  Charles 
S.  Thomas. 

Huxley’s  Essays  and  Addresses.  Selections.  Edited  by  P. 

M.  Buck. 

Saving’s  Alhambra.  Edited  by  Alfred  M.  Hitchcock, 
Public  High  School,  Hartford,  Conn. 

Irving’s  Knickerbocker’s  History  of  Hew  York.  Edited  by 
Prof.  E.  A.  Greenlaw,  Adelphi  College,  New  York  City. 
Irving’s  Life  of  Goldsmith.  Edited  by  Gilbert  Sykes 
Blakely,  Teacher  of  English  in  the  Morris  High 
School,  New  York  City. 

Irving’s  Sketch  Book. 

Irving’s  Tales  of  a Traveler.  Edited  by  Jennie  Chase. 
Keary’s  Heroes  of  Asgard.  Edited  by  Charles  H.  Morss. 
& Kempis’  Imitation  of  Christ.  Edited  by  Brother  Leo. 
Hingsley’s  The  Heroes : Greek  Fairy  Tales.  Edited  by 

Charles  A.  McMurry,  Ph.D. 

Iamb’s  Essays  of  Elia.  Edited  by  Helen  J.  Robins. 
Lamb’s  Tales  from  Shakespeare.  Edited  by  A.  Ainger. 
Lincoln’s  Addresses.  Edited  by  Percival  Chubb. 

Lockhart’s  Lif©  of  Scott.  Selections.  Preparing. 

Longfellow’s  Courtship  of  Miles  Standard.  Edited  by 
Homer  P.  Lewis. 

Longfellow’s  Courtship  of  Miles  Standish,  and  Minor 
Poems.  Edited  by  W.  D.  Howe,  Butler  College,  In- 
dianapolis, Ind. 

Longfellow’s  Evangeline..  Edited  by  Lewis  B.  Semplh, 
Commercial  High  School,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 
Longfellow’s  The  Song  of  Hiawatha.  Edited  by  Elizabeth 
J.  Fleming,  Teachers’  Training  School,  Baltimore,  Md. 


Pocket  Series  of  English  Classics — Continued 


Rongfellow’s  Tales  of  a Wayside  Inn.  Edited  by  J.  HL 

Castleman. 

Rowell’s  Vision  of  Sir  Raunfal.  Edited  by  Herbert  E. 

Bates,  Manual  Training  High  School,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 
Macaulay’s  Essay  on  Addison.  Edited  by  C.  W.  French, 
Principal  of  Hyde  Park  High  School,  Chicago,  111. 
Macaulay’s  Essay  on  Clive.  Edited  by  J.  W.  Pearce,  As- 
sistant Professor  of  English  in  Tulane  University. 
Macaulay’s  Essay  on  Johnson.  Edited  by  William  Schuy- 
ler, Assistant  Principal  of  the  St.  Louis  High  School. 
Macaulay’s  Essay  on  Milton.  Edited  by  C.  W.  French. 
Macaulay’s  Essay  on  Warren  Eastings.  Edited  by  Mrs. 

M.  J.  Frick,  Los  Angeles,  Cal. 

Macaulay’s  Rays  of  Ancient  Rome,  and  other  Poems. 
Edited  by  Franklin  T.  Baker,  Teachers  College 
Columbia  University. 

Malory’s  Morte  d’ Arthur  (Selections).  Edited  by  D.  W. 

SWIGGETT. 

Memorable  Passages  from  the  Bible  (Authorized  Version). 
Selected  and  edited  by  Fred  Newton  Scott,  Professor 
of  Rhetoric  in  the  University  of  Michigan. 

Milton’s  Comus,  Rycidas,  and  other  Poems.  Edited  by 

Samuel  E.  Allen. 

Milton’s  Paradise  Rost,  Books  I and  H.  Edited  by  W.  I. 

Crane. 

Old  English  Ballads.  Edited  by  William  D.  Armes,  of  the 

Uni\ersity  of  California. 

Old  Testament  Selections.  Edited  by  F.  N.  Scott. 

Oral  English.  Selections.  Preparing . 

Out  of  the  Northland.  Edited  by  Emilie  Kip  Baker. 
Falgrave’s  Golden  Treasury  of  Sengs  and  Ryrics. 
Parkman’s  Oregon  Trail,  Edited  by  C.  H.  J.  Douglas. 
Plutarch’s  Rives  of  Caesar,  Brutus,  and  Antony.  Edited 
by  Martha  Brier,  Polytechnic  High  School,  Oakland, 
Cal. 

Poems,  Narrative  and  Ryrical.  Edited  by  Robert  P.  St. 

John. 

Poe’s  Poems.  Edited  by  Charles  W.  Kent,  University  of 
Virginia. 

Poe’K  Prose  Tales.  Selections. 

Pope’s  Homer's  Iliad.  Books  I,  VI,  Sin,  2TXIV.  Edited 

by  Albert  Smyth,  Head  Professor  of  English  Language 
and  Literature,  Central  High  School,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 
Pope’s  Homer’s  Iliad.  Complete.  Edited  by  C.  E.  Rhodes. 
Pope’s  Homer’s  Odyssey.  Edited  by  E.  S.  and  Waldo 

Shu  m way. 

Pope’s  The  Rape  of  the  Rock.  Edited  by  Elizabeth  M. 

King. 

Christina  Rossetti’s  Poems.  Selections.  Edited  by 

Charles  Bell  Burke. 

Ruskin’s  Crown  of  Wild  Olive  and  the  Queen  of  the  Air* 

Edited  by  W,  F,  Melton, 


Pocket  Series  of  English  Classics — Continued 


Buskin’s  Sesame  and  Lilies  and  The  King  of  the  Oolde* 
River.  Edited  by  Herbert  E.  Bates. 

Scott’s  Ivanhoe.  Edited  by  Alfred  M.  Hitchcock. 

Scott’s  Kenilworth.  Edited  by  J.  H.  Castleman. 

Scott’s  Lady  of  the  Lake.  Edited  by  Elizabeth  A.  Pack- 
ard. 

Scott’s  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel.  Edited  by  Ralph  H. 
Bowles. 

Scott’s  Mannion.  Edited  by  George  B.  Aiton,  State  In- 
spector of  High  Schools  for  Minnesota. 

Scott’s  Quentin  Durward.  Edited  by  Arthur  Llewellyn 
Eno,  Instructor  in  the  University  of  Illinois. 

Scott’s  The  Talisman.  Edited  by  Frederick  Treudley, 
State  Normal  College,  Ohio  University. 

Select  Orations.  Edited  by  A.  M.  Hall. 

Selected  Poems  for  Required  Reading  in  Secondary  Schools. 

Edited  by  H.  N.  Boynton. 

Shakespeare’s  As  You  Like  It.  Edited  by  Charles  Robert 
Gaston. 

Shakespeare’s  Hamlet.  Edited  by  L.  A.  Sherman,  Professor 
of  English  Literature  in  the  University  of  Nebraska. 
Shakespeare’s  Henry  V.  Edited  by  Ralph  Hartt  Bowles, 
Phillips  Exeter  Academy,  Exeter,  N.  H. 

Shakespeare’s  Julius  Caesar.  Edited  by  George  W’.  Huf- 
ford  and  Lois  G.  Hufford,  High  School,  Indianapolis, 
Ind. 

Shakespeare’s  King  Lear.  Edited  by  Philo  M.  Buck. 
Shakespeare’s  Macbeth.  Edited  by  C.  W.  French. 
Shakespeare’s  Merchant  of  Venice.  Edited  by  Charlotte 
W.  Underwood,  Lewis  Institute,  Chicago,  111. 
Shakespeare’s  Midsummer  Night’s  Dream.  Edited  by  E.  C. 
Noyes. 

Shakespeare’s  Richard  IL  Edited  by  James  Hugh  Mof- 
fatt. 

Shakespeare’s  The  Tempest.  Edited  by  S.  C.  Newson. 
Shakespeare’s  Twelfth  Night.  Edited  by  Edward  [P. 
Morton. 

Shelley  and  Keats  Poems.  Selections.  Edited  by  S.  C. 
Newson. 

Sheridan’s  The  Rivals,  and  The  School  for  Scandal,  Edited 
by  W.  D.  Howe. 

Short  Stories.  A Collection,  Edited  by  L.  A.  Pittenger. 
Southern  Orators.  Edited  by  J.  H.  McConnell. 

Southern  Poets.  Selections.  Edited  by  W.  L.  Weber. 
Spenser’s  Paerie  Queene,  Book  I.  Edited  by  George  Arm- 
strong WIauchope,  Professor  of  English  in  the  South 
Carolina  College 

Stevenson’s  Kidnapped.  Edited  by  John  Thompson  Brown. 
Stevenson’s  Master  of  Ballantrae.  Edited  by  H.  A.  White. 
Stevenson’s  Travels  with  a Donkey  and  an  Inland  Voyage, 

Edited  by  W.  L.  Cross. 

Stevenson’s  Treasure  Island.  Edited  by  H.  A.  Vance, 

Professor  of  English  in  the  University  of  Nashville. 


Pocket  Series  of  English  Classics — Continued 


Swift's  Gulliver's  Travels.  Edited  by  Clifton  Johnson. 
Tennyson's  Idylls  of  the  King1.  Edited  by  Charles  W. 

French. 

Tennyson’s  In  Memoriam.  Edited  by  J.  W.  Pearce. 
Tennyson’s  Shorter  Po  ems.  Edited  by  Charles  Read 

Nutter. 

Tennyson’s  The  Princess.  Edited  by  Wilson  Farrand. 
Thackeray’s  Henry  Esmond.  Edited  by  John  Bell  Henne- 
man.  University  of  the  South,  Sewanee,  Tenn. 
Thackeray’s  English  Humorists.  Edited  by  J.  C.  Castle- 
man. 

Thoreau’s  Walden.  Edited  by  Byron  Ries. 

Trevelyan’s  Eife  of  Macaulay.  Selections.  Preparing. 

Virgil’s  Aeneid.  Translated  by  Conington.  Edited  by 
Edgar  S.  Shumway. 

Washington's  Parewell  Address,  and  Webster’s  Pirst  Bun- 
ker Hill  Oration.  Edited  by  William  T.  Peck. 
Whittier’s  Snowbound  and  other  Early  Poems.  Edited  by 
A.  Li.  Bouton. 

John  Woolman’s  Journal. 

Wordsworth’s  Shorter  Poems.  Edited  by  Edward  Fulton 


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